Plain Sailing
by Missyhissy3
Summary: This is intended as a follow-on to my other AU story 'Alternative Coda', but if you haven't read that, you could still make sense of this. What if Chakotay was successful at persuading Kathryn to make a change in their personal relationship - even then, would it really be plain sailing?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Paramount clearly owns all the characters. Copyright:Paramount

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AN: This is intended as a follow-on to my AU story Alternative Coda. If you haven't read it, you could just read the Epilogue. If you don't fancy it, all you really need to know is that in that story, after his near-death experience Chakotay decided it was high time he put his tactical skills to use in his personal life as well as in the interests of the ship.

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Even then, would it really be plain sailing? Reviews/PM comments welcome

* * *

Plain sailing

10.00hrs

The morning after the shuttle crash he awoke to find she wasn't there.

_No big surprise. Time for some strategic planning._

His shifted position, gingerly stretching his stiff limbs, and closed his eyes again.

A little while later, just as he was summoning the energy to actually get up, she appeared, bearing slightly burnt breakfast in bed.

"Good morning."

"Good morning, and ...thank you," he grinned as he took her in; she must have been on duty for a while already and was every inch the captain again, except for the tray of course.

She laid the small tray across his lap and settled herself on the side of his bed facing him. Her right thigh grazed his, causing a swell of pleasure to ripple through him at the ease of her movements in this small room, so intimately his. If she'd already managed to push back down the feelings the previous day's experiences had brought to the surface, he would have seen it instantly in her eyes, and he hadn't. When he'd woken alone and realised she'd made her retreat, he hadn't dared to hope that she would willingly enter quite so soon the heart of his territory, his very campaign headquarters in fact.

As he prepared to tuck in he said, "I could get used to this."

That earned him a raised eyebrow. "I'm afraid this is a one-off performance."

"Well, I seem to have the best seat in the house," he replied, "so I'm not complaining." He bit into a crisp of toast. "Any chance you'll reprise that ballet recital as an encore while I eat?"

"Don't push it, Commander." A swat this time.

"Forgive me," his grin spread, "but I have to say, I'm more than a little surprised…. I would never have thought of you as waitress material."

That really did deserve the death glare.

"I'd be careful if I were you, or I might just decide to pick up this tray and head right back out of that door."

"Don't even think about it, you're needed right here, I'm famished."

When he'd finished eating she removed the tray and used his replicator rations to get them both more coffee. She returned to sit facing him in the same position (he thanked the spirits again that his room was too small to accommodate a chair) and she asked how he was feeling and whether he would make it to sickbay on his own to check in with the Doctor. He assured her he'd make it there fine as he felt quite a bit better, and so she went on to tell him about ship's business that morning.

When it was evident she was about to take her leave, he captured her hand as she rose. Whilst she'd been talking, one part of his mind had been planning. The delicious feeling of her skin touching his again spurred him on to put phase one of his new campaign into action.

"I'll expect you back here tonight; I fully intend to hold you to your promise last night to give me your opinion of my new holodeck programme. Don't think I've forgotten."

"Are you sure you'll be up to it?" Her concern was genuine, and her hand was still in his.

"I think so. Come by before dinner, we can get something to eat there."

She withdrew her hand but held his gaze. There was a hint of a hesitation before she spoke this time. "You know, we really do need to talk, Chakotay."

"All right. Then we'll talk."

"Good. Later then. Right now I need to get back to the bridge and you need some peace and quiet." She was back to full command mode already.

"19.00hrs then? You wouldn't want to disappoint an invalid now, would you?"

"Wouldn't dream of it." She left and he went back to his planning.

* * *

18.00hrs

As he pulled on a plain, short sleeved, cream shirt he considered what supplies he might need. Scent? Cologne? After a rummage through his bathroom cabinet he realised he didn't actually possess any, it'd been that long. He replicated a small bottle, and splashed some on. Spirits, that was enough to send her fleeing back to her quarters after five minutes in his company! Better get back in that shower. A gift maybe? That was easy.

19.00hrs

When she arrived to collect him, he greeted her with a wide smile. His hair was still a little damp from the shower, he smelt good and he was armed with a single peace rose. As he offered her the flower he told her she looked stunning, because she did, her toned body flattered by the well-cut lines of the linen pants and the elegant silk blouse she'd chosen.

His holodeck programme was as close as you could get to a breath of fresh air on a starship travelling at warp through space. It was an unspoilt beach on the island of Cozumel, overlooking the Caribbean.

The only trace of civilisation he'd programmed was one small café situated directly on the beach. There was a solitary waiter serving the food and drink, and there were two holographic couples sharing intimate, candlelit dinners. The atmosphere was relaxed, the food was good, but what was much better was the feeling of being so far removed from their lives on the ship.

His strategy for this part of the evening was devastatingly simple.

Stop. And see what happens.

He was quite deliberately doing nothing to reign himself in this evening; nothing to suppress his genuine pleasure at spending time with this fascinating and beautiful woman. Over the past three years, it had become second nature to him to check his reactions and remind himself every few minutes not to stray from his role as her safe date. So, now, he just stopped.

Unsurprisingly perhaps, the dynamic between them felt quite different; at once familiar, yet wonderfully unfamiliar. The unpredictability was intoxicating. They traded memories and anecdotes about their favourite places on Earth and explored their shared fascination with the ocean. Now that he'd stopped internally censoring his conversation, the ease with which he could make her laugh surprised him and the resulting sounds brought him such undiluted pleasure. The flow of the conversation was different. He was ashamed that it was only now that he realised how passive and reactive the self-imposed restraints on his behaviour must have made him appear to her before.

His unguarded attentions seemed to be having an effect on her. Gone were some of the sharp angles of command; she was no less confident, no less herself, but she held herself slightly differently, moved slightly differently. She was all fluidity and playful challenge. He swore to himself he would do his damnedest to ensure they didn't go back to the two dimensional friendship they'd known before.

They'd finished their meal, their glasses were nearly empty and she was quiet for a few moments, and so he decided to roll out phase two, as it was possible she'd decide any minute that it was time for that talk. It was better to head her off, rather than to have to take her on now or fight for another postponement.

It wasn't that he was unprepared for 'the talk', it was more that he was very much aware that as long as nothing definitive had been said, he had the advantage. The longer he could keep her considering the possibilities, in this no man's land they'd strayed into last night, the better. So, he suggested a walk on the beach.

They left their shoes at the edge of the café and set off together to wander along in the warm, shallow surf, her slender hand gently held hostage in his.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

He carried on talking and guided her inside, before she'd really had a chance to protest.

But, once inside, at the first opportunity she said, "It's late now, and you may have the luxury of calling in sick again tomorrow, but some of us are expected on the bridge at 07.00, so..."

"Just one coffee?"

She rolled her eyes at him.

Undeterred he went on. "I've really enjoyed this evening, Kathryn, and I guess I just don't want it to end."

"It has been wonderful. Thank you." Her voice was lower, her eyes still holding some of the heat of the undeniable connection strengthening between them.

"Then stay a while?"

"I'd love to, Chakotay, but we can't go on just..." The colour began to rise a little more in her cheeks.

"Oh, I see." He tugged on his ear, and forced himself to look at her again, trying to read her expression, for any signs of what was to come; although he had a pretty good idea.

"We said we'd talk later."

"We did. And it's certainly 'later' now," he conceded.

"Shall we?" She motioned towards the low sofa that ran under his viewport, and they sat down in much the same positions as the night before, when her fingers had seemed to have a mind of their own. She began immediately. "Look Chakotay, about last night, I can see I need to give you some sort of an explanation, as to why I allowed... why..." she faltered, before trying again.

"I just needed to be... close to you, to... it was about reassuring myself that I hadn't lost you. It doesn't mean that our situation has changed in essentials." She stopped, and watched him for a moment.

"Go on," he said, his voice soft and low.

She swallowed and then continued. She didn't say much he hadn't anticipated, until she spoke of her fear that if they allowed themselves to get closer and something were to happen to him, she wouldn't be able to carry on leading the crew without him by her side.

He was stunned to discover that this fear was the main force holding them apart. Her desire to hold fast to protocol and her loyalty to her fiancé seemed less significant than he'd imagined.

In measured tones he pointed out that denying what they felt for each other was unlikely to lessen the fallout for either of them, if anything were to happen to the other, and, in many ways, she might want to consider that it could actually heighten the pain. She listened, eyes studying the carpet.

He captured one of her hands in his, his thumb stroking lightly across her knuckles. "You remember I told you I lived through four days of hallucinations while you were trying to revive me yesterday? Well, I had plenty of time to think. I think we've already wasted so much time, Kathryn. You need more from someone than just help shouldering your burdens out here. Any good first officer could do that for you. Tuvok could do that. Tuvok _does_ do that."

"What's your point?"

"My point is, that you have a right to... a need for more. A lot more. And so do I."

"I know you do. I wouldn't begrudge you happiness elsewhere."

He knew she really believed what she was saying, but he was determined not to let it discourage him. "I see."

She watched him carefully, gauging his reaction as she went on. "I wouldn't blame you, Chakotay." She laid her other hand on his shoulder.

"And how would you propose I go about getting myself a date then?"

Her brows rose together as she took in his small smile. "That's not really something you expect me to answer is it? I mean, I don't imagine you've ever had problems in that department."

"I'm flattered you think that, Kathryn, but actually I'm serious. Just who exactly on this ship do you expect me to date?"

"Well, any number of women!" she threw back at him.

He cocked his head to one side and his mouth twitched. "I can see you haven't really thought this one through." Turning her hand over between his, he began slowly tracing the outline of each of her fingers.

"Why do you say that?" She watched transfixed as his fingers moved lightly over hers.

"Well...let's just say, I'm closer to the crew than you are, and I can tell you that my feelings for you aren't exactly the best kept secret on this ship."

She looked up to hold his gaze now.

"So, I ask you again, who exactly is going to risk dating the man who everyone believes is already hopelessly in love with the Captain? Or if you care to believe another portion of the crew, the fortunate man who has been the Captain's lover ever since he materialised on her bridge? I can assure you, I'm not exactly fighting them off here."

"Oh. I see." Still she didn't look away, and the corner of her mouth twitched in poorly disguised amusement, or possibly nervousness.

"I'm not saying that's a reason for us to be together, I just think you need to be aware of certain things." He moistened his lips before continuing and her eyes flickered down to his mouth for a fraction of a second.

"I just want you to consider the fact that my feelings for you are already there, already real, already part of me. If you feel the same, then I can't see the wisdom in denying them any longer. It feels... misguided. It benefits no one, and it plays no part in determining whether or not we get the crew home."

Her eyes dropped to the carpet, then came back up, lingering for another split second on his lips, to meet his gaze again. "But what if it distracted us? Surely it _would_ distract us? We might... make mistakes."

"We'll make mistakes whether we're together or not. "

"I know that too," she sighed, but, for once, her eyes were unguarded. "Oh, Chakotay. I just don't know. That still doesn't make it... right."

"We both know our goal here has to be what's most important, but that doesn't mean our lives should be less than they could be."

Eyes full and her voice uncharacteristically hesitant, she began. "If we were to start… something, it would have to stay here, in our quarters. The crew couldn't know – and I just don't know if that's possible on a ship this small."

He could sense he was slowly gaining ground. Gently turning her hand to entwine her fingers in his, he chuckled. "Kathryn, are you really telling me you're worried we haven't had enough practice concealing our feelings?"

She fixed him with her deep blue gaze for a moment, then looked down again. "But I can't guarantee I'd be able to give you enough of...myself, enough of what you want... need."

Determined to squeeze through that door he'd wedged open the night before, he brought her fingers up to his lips and then with his free hand he gently lifted her chin so she was forced to look at him. "I'll take whatever you've got to give. It'll be enough."

"How can you know that?"

"You need to trust me to take care of my own heart."

"I do."

"Then don't you at least want to know what this... could be, before you decide it's not worth the risk?"

As he'd been speaking he'd shifted slightly to close the small gap between them, and he could see she thought he was preparing to lean in to kiss her, as he had the night before. Her eyes seemed the darkest blue as she moistened her lips before she spoke.

"Oh...believe me... I think I know."

He took a slightly different direction however, and the movement of his head towards hers ended with his lips grazing her ear. "Do you want to go now, Kathryn, or shall I seal the doors?"

"I take it you're feeling better then?"

He could hear that crooked smile he loved so much. "I am, but you haven't answered my question."

She was suddenly very still. His cheek brushed against hers as he drew back a fraction to leave their lips close enough to almost taste her breath. He tilted his head slightly as he held her gaze. His counted through another three beats of his pounding heart, and then he decided. Her continued presence, her teasing and her hand still in his were definitely enough, so he stopped holding himself back and did what he'd wanted to do for the best part of the last three years.

As their lips connected and his tongue found hers immediately, the unexpected force of her response afforded him a glorious moment of revelation. Small, cool hands came up almost immediately beneath his loose shirt to thrill his skin and his soul with their very first touch. He could be in no doubt; she'd made her decision.

Minutes later, without breaking contact, she somehow managed to get them off the sofa and steer them towards the bedroom. He was beyond caring where they were. He hadn't formulated any strategies for this part of his campaign, and even if he had, they would have just been blasted out of the airlock, along with the rest of his higher brain functions. It was her, not him, who still had the presence of mind to tell the computer to seal the doors.

* * *

That night they made love for the first time. And the second time. And the third time.

To be fair, he was feeling quite a bit better.

There was something so powerfully right about their joining – above and beyond the intense physical pleasure – that he couldn't help but feel hopeful this was something she would find very hard to deny them now. He wasn't prone to over-confidence, but he could feel in his very bones that she loved him – feel it with a wholly unexpected certainty.

* * *

Early next morning as they lay entwined in his bed, his lips brushed her ear again. "I love you, Kathryn Janeway."

She shifted to mirror the gesture and husked, "I believe you're repeating yourself, Commander."

"Not exactly the response I was after, Captain," he murmured as he trailed his fingers across her back. "But I guess I already knew you weren't a morning person. We can work on your pillow talk later."

He returned to duty, but she still didn't return to her quarters that night either. She replicated a toothbrush and put it in his bathroom.

* * *

The following morning, they lay entwined in his bed again and this time her lips brushed his ear. "I had a word with the computer and we came to an understanding."

She told him to ask the computer to locate her.

"Captain Janeway is in her quarters," it responded.

"Is she awake?" he asked.

"Negative," came the monotone reply. She giggled. He laughed, mostly because of the delightful novelty of hearing her giggle.

For the following two weeks, they effortlessly maintained the appearance of their three-year long friendship in front of the crew, but she found her way to his bed each night eventually. The pull to be together was simply too strong to resist, even for her.

He smiled more, she slept better.


	3. Chapter 3

The first two weeks after the shuttle crash proved uneventful in Delta Quadrant terms, and Chakotay was profoundly grateful for this respite from ship wide crises at such a crucial time for his new 'arrangement' with Kathryn. Their appetites for each other were well matched, probably due to their unspoken understanding that there were three years of enforced celibacy they were entitled to make up for, when circumstances allowed.

At the beginning of their involvement, she had suggested they have a meeting in his quarters, to lay down some ground rules. She had made it very clear that they had to adhere to the 'only in their quarters' rule, with absolutely no exceptions.

No stray hands in the ready room; no trying out that couch in his office; no lifting her onto that long table in the conference room; no fumbles in the weapons lockers; no bouncing off the walls of the Jeffries tubes; no hoisting her up to straddle him in the turbo lift; no sequestering themselves in the science lab to undertake dubious 'research'; no chancing it inside those huge storage containers in Cargo Bay 2; no simultaneous shore leave in rooms with connecting internal doors; no away missions alone in a shuttle craft; no pushing her up against the wall of the changing room in his boxing programme; no pulling her into the shower in there with him after a fight...

After they'd recovered from her recital of the list, lying together less than half-dressed in a tangle of entwined limbs on the sofa in his quarters, she reminded him that they weren't teenagers and if she ever felt their 'arrangement' was distracting her from her focus as captain, then it would have to end. He tried hard not to let the seriousness of this warning be undermined by the manner of its delivery; her mind might well have been focussed exclusively on captain-like concerns, but her body was still reclining invitingly, mostly on top of him, sporting very little of her black lace underwear, and even less of her uniform. He had to concede that he was impressed; after three years of barely suppressed fantasies, his list was a little longer perhaps, but Kathryn's was definitely more creative, he'd never even considered the science lab, or those containers... She was still talking, so he tuned back in.

No holodeck dates either, since sealing the doors was an impossibility without arousing suspicion, as was spending too much of their leisure time together.

He continued to play hoverball with B'Elanna, and play pool in Sandrine's with Ayala or Paris, she continued to take breakfast with Tuvok occasionally, and sometimes shared meals with Kes, and they agreed there should be one weekly dinner together, taken in plain sight in the mess hall.

The only crewmember she said she was wary of, was that disarmingly perceptive Talaxian. She said she was convinced he feigned naivety at times, and his role as chef meant he simply had more opportunities to observe them together at length, when they were off duty in the mess hall. Chakotay tried to reassure her; he didn't think Neelix would pick up on anything.

Paris and B'Elanna were his main concerns. The helmsman had always had a sixth sense for certain matters, and B'Elanna just knew him too well. For those first two weeks, Chakotay made sure he kept himself in check around his friend, determined not to allow her to see any abrupt changes in his mood or his outlook on their life on the ship. He told Kathryn he thought he had it under control.

As for Paris, Chakotay suggested that if she were to continue to publicly refuse his invitations to dinner with a sympathetic pat, that might be enough to convince the pilot that nothing was changing between them. She failed to suppress a smile and said she didn't used to do that...did she?

* * *

A month later she sent him on an away mission and they lost contact with his team for three days.

When they did finally locate him he was unconscious and barely breathing, his skin grey, covered in some sort of volcanic ash. It took the Doctor and Paris over an hour to even stabilise him. As soon as she had been assured he was out of danger, she left sickbay and didn't return.

He spent a further forty-eight hours confined to sickbay. Later, when the Doctor informed her he would only grant the Commander's request to be released to his quarters if someone agreed to monitor him for the first four hours, she sent B'Elanna. If Tuvok hadn't insisted that she take breakfast with him on the second day, Kathryn would have gone almost two days without consuming much more than coffee.

When Chakotay returned to duty, for three days she avoided him wherever possible, refused to talk to him about anything other than ship's business and she slept in her own quarters again. He tried and tried to talk to her, but she wouldn't answer her door to him, and cut him off the minute she ascertained that his comm calls weren't work related.

They were some of the longest three days he'd ever spent on the ship.

He went to bed alone again on the fourth night, but awoke in the small hours to find he couldn't roll onto his back, because her sleeping form was moulded to him.

* * *

She told him about her first fiancé. He held her as she sobbed uncontrollably for hours.

* * *

Two months later, during some less than successful trade negotiations, he lost the plot and decked an alien lothario who insisted on pawing her. Later, in her quarters after dessert, she forgave him.

The fact their arrangement obliged them to keep their relationship secret added an undeniable tension. As the weeks went by and their connection grew stronger still, keeping his own hands off her in public was harder some days than others.

Inevitably, the illicit thrill of the forbidden heightened their already intense level of desire for each other, and when days were uneventful, the end of the shift couldn't come soon enough. Once inside their quarters, clothes would start to fly seconds before the computer had finished announcing it's acknowledgement of their now familiar instruction.

* * *

Their arrangement also forced them both to give award-winning performances to the crew on a regular basis. They both enjoyed their public greeting each morning; it became like a scene in a piece of improvisation, neither one knowing exactly what the other might throw in that day.

"Good morning, Captain, how was your evening?"

"Very stimulating, thank you, Commander."

"Oh? How so?"

"I've found a wonderful old novel in the database, it has been something of a revelation actually."

"Old?"

"Well, it's a relative term, Commander, old enough."

"And it's a revelation, you say, would you care to expand on that?"

"Oh, well, there's an unpredictability to it that's surprised me and had me breathless with anticipation."

"Really?"

"It just keeps getting better with each chapter. Some of the techniques the author employs are truly inventive."

"Well I'm delighted you've found enough to keep your interest in this _ancient _work of art, Captain."

"Oh, I'm certain it'll be one I keep rather than recycle."

"I should hope so!"

It kept them entertained on slow days, when there was nothing but space to cross and routines to follow.

* * *

She seemed to have fully embraced her role as the politely tolerant and eternally unattainable object of his attentions, and came up with ever more inventive excuses each time for patronisingly declining his regular, public invitations. In fact, he suspected she was rather enjoying it. Unsurprisingly, he was utterly believable as her hapless suitor.

Having her there to talk to, to make love to and to hold, got him through so many days of Delta Quadrant conflict, confusion and alien madness; days that would've taken so much more of a toll on him, in so many ways, if she hadn't been there to patch him up and rejuvenate him, and to push him out of bed to do it all over again the next morning. He firmly believed they were more resilient together than either could possibly have been apart.

* * *

Near the end of the third year of their journey, he was abducted from the mess hall by a saurian alien and, once again, they had no idea where he was for days.

She was occupied twenty-four hours a day dealing with the Voth authorities and desperately trying to keep her crew from being imprisoned and her ship impounded. She coped on automatic pilot and refused to countenance the possibility he wouldn't return. They got him back in one piece and fully conscious this time, before she'd had time to become desperate.

The week that followed was unusually uneventful and allowed them the luxury of a succession of quiet dinners and very early nights. She certainly knew how to leave him in absolutely no doubt about just how much he'd been missed.

* * *

At the beginning of their fourth year in the Delta Quadrant, they clashed over the Borg.

They tried at first to keep it separate, but within hours, the debate spilled over into their off-duty time, what there was of it. It was just too much to deal with, so she retreated; he didn't try and stop her.

Then the cube she was on exploded and she was seriously injured. He stood over her unconscious form in sickbay and cursed their situation. Struggling to achieve some objectivity, he decided on a course of action he knew she would vehemently disagree with. When it was all over, he apologised repeatedly for disobeying her orders, keeping to himself his conviction that his actions had probably saved their lives, but it wasn't enough. She shut him out.

He sensed her resolve to keep him at arms length finally faltering, when Kes's sudden departure left her distraught. She didn't resist when he pulled her into his arms.

* * *

Only a month later, his shuttle disappeared yet again, on what should have been a routine away mission.

He'd been abducted and subjected to a sophisticated programme of propaganda pertaining to an alien conflict he'd been coerced into fighting in.

When they finally got him back, he was a wreck and he knew it. Night after night his nightmares disturbed her sleep, so he begged her to go back to her own bed. She refused. She said she just couldn't bear to leave him alone. She was clearly beyond exhausted. For two weeks, she survived on coffee and then more coffee. Gradually, with her support, he dragged himself back to his life on the ship.

* * *

Six months later, they made contact with the Alpha Quadrant. She received a letter from her former fiancé telling her of his marriage. She told Chakotay she was genuinely happy for Mark, and relieved for herself.

Chakotay received a letter from a Maquis friend, telling him of the massacre of almost all the remaining Maquis and their families.

In a vision quest, his father told him he should open himself completely, if he believed he had found the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. In bed that night, he finally told her something about the life he'd led before they met. He told her things he'd presumed he would have had to carry with him unspoken to the grave.

Eleven months had passed since the shuttle crash that had marked the beginning of their relationship, and he tentatively asked her whether she still felt the same about being open with the crew. She sighed and went silent on him. He dropped it.


	4. Chapter 4

As they entered the fifth year of their journey, if they wanted to continue on towards the Alpha Quadrant, they had no choice other than to cross a vast expanse of space, stretching 250,000 light years; a space that appeared to be completely devoid of all stellar phenomena. It could take them two years to cross it, so, they stockpiled resources and devised ways to conserve energy. The crew nicknamed it 'the void.'

"This could be as big a challenge in its own way as anything we've come up against," Chakotay mused, as they sat on the sofa in her quarters, nursing their respective drinks. She sighed, then fixed her gaze on him and said,

"It'll be hard, I know. But I'll be damned if I'm going to let it beat us, Chakotay." He could see she was already psyching herself up for the briefing the following morning.

"After everything we've been through – the Borg, species 8472, the Hirogen – I'm not going to be beaten by a big expanse of _nothing,_ for God's sake! We'll find ways to cope, we have to."

He put down his cup and rolled his shoulders to release a little of the day's tension. He was less worried now than he had been earlier, when they'd seen the first long-range sensor readings. The briefing would be fine. She would carry the crew through this somehow, come hell, high water or two years of blackness. Failure simply was not an option.

"We will," he said, as he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her towards him, so that her back was resting up against his chest. He leant in to press a kiss to her temple. She managed to juggle her coffee successfully and shifted slightly in his embrace, whilst continuing to sip it. He felt a surge of love for this extraordinary woman, as she settled against him.

"No overblown desert of nothingness is going to beat my Kathryn, that's for sure; no matter how big it might be," he observed quietly into her ear.

"Damn right," she said into her coffee.

Even as the possessive had slipped from his lips, he wondered if she thought of herself as 'his'. It seemed unlikely somehow, despite everything he believed she felt for him. She didn't comment though, and rested her head back against him, so he decided it wasn't important and dismissed it more or less instantly.

They tossed ideas back and forth for hours, about how best to counter the inevitable effects of the void on the crew.

Chakotay was pleased to see that she understood immediately that it was essential she make herself more accessible now to the wider crew. He didn't even have to work on persuading her, she just seemed to accept that it would be necessary for both of them to put their considerable morale boosting skills into action immediately, and do all they could to keep the crew positive. When they worked in tandem on any task, they were a force to be reckoned with, and this was no exception. Within hours they had come up with a plethora of ideas to present to the senior staff.

The following morning in the briefing, Kathryn and Chakotay took turns introducing their plans. The role of social secretary, she split between Tom Paris and Neelix, charging them with the planning and organisation of a variety of regular social events, and she gave Harry Kim and Seven the job of organising competitive sporting events on the holodeck. Chakotay explained that he and Tuvok would take on the task of putting together a series of lectures and tutorials, on any subject they could offer, and of drumming up volunteers to staff a timetable of additional educational and recreational courses. All courses were to be open to anyone who wished to enrol. Kathryn offered to lead a course herself, and managed to cajole B'Elanna into agreeing to devise one for anyone who wished to extend or brush up on their engineering skills. Within hours of the idea being floated, the Doctor had presented them with an extensive curriculum, encompassing a wide range of subjects, by no means limited to medicine, and Neelix offered to step aside for anyone who had culinary skills they were willing to share.

The first few days in the void were surprisingly busy. Neelix's idea of rotating duty stations proved popular, and scores of the crew volunteered to swap to gain experience of other roles. Some days, Chakotay came on duty to find the most unlikely people manning bridge stations. Given that they were travelling at unvarying warp through absolutely nothing, and absolutely nothing seemed likely to happen for months, he was quite comfortable with the arrangement; it was actually quite refreshing to have different voices and views filling the bridge for a change.

He embraced the idea himself and a week or so in, the role he'd assigned himself on the bridge one morning afforded him probably the most entertainment he'd had so far on duty in the void.

He walked off the turbo lift onto the bridge, to find it staffed exclusively by crewmembers from his Maquis ship.

B'Elanna looked completely at home in the big chair, and would clearly make quite an impact one day if she chose to pursue that career path. At tactical, Chakotay took in Dalby who was lounging on the stool that Tuvok never sat down on, and who seemed to be looking so intently at his monitor that Chakotay wondered if he was actually playing a game on it with Ayala, who was at operations, looking similarly transfixed. The real surprise of the morning though was Chell, humming loudly at the helm.

Chakotay had assigned himself to the helm for the start of this shift, to keep his much-maligned piloting skills up to scratch, and was expecting to be taking over from Tom Paris.

Dalby looked up and smirked as he took in Chakotay, descending the steps, on his way to take up a seat next to B'Elanna. Dalby called down to him, "Morning Boss. You're late, the mutiny started five minutes ago."

Chakotay couldn't help but throw back a grin, as he could almost smell the leather and the fumes from smouldering consoles, overloaded by Cardassian weapons' fire. "Good morning," he replied. "Care to explain why Chell is flying the ship, B'Elanna? And it'd better be good!"

B'Elanna had the good grace to look a little sheepish. "He's not, I promise. Tom tied helm control into the command console before he left. Chell's just sitting there….for the view."

"The view…"

"He said he was bored, Chakotay, and I know how you want us to do all we can to keep up crew morale! I just thought it'd keep him out of trouble…"

"Do I even want to know what he was doing up here in the first place?"

B'Elanna's face told him that was going to be a 'No'. "He was just delivering a late breakfast someone ordered up," she replied, her eyes flickering for a split second to the right towards tactical, "and he said Neelix was giving him a hard time, so…."

"May I remind everyone this is supposed to be a duty station rotation programme, rotations arranged with _my_ approval, it's not a chance to swap toys…." He walked up to the helm to slap Chell on the shoulder, "Move it, Chell. Relief's here. B'Elanna, transfer back helm control."

"That was fun!" remarked Chell, as he picked up a tray, that had been balancing on top of helm and ambled back up the steps towards the turbo lift.

"You're back in business." B'Elanna replied.

Chakotay flexed his fingers in front of him before settling in at the helm and checking to make sure the Bolian hadn't actually managed to fiddle with anything.

He twisted round to address Ayala, "Any sign of elevated neutrino emissions, Mike?"

"No."

"Well if you get an indication that we might be approaching a giant wormhole, that'll dump us on Starfleet Command's doorstep, you might want to warn me, so I can fly past it until we get some other people up here; this could really take some explaining."

"No way, Boss," Dalby threw in, "It might give us a bit of bargaining power!"

"Can it, Ken," shot back Chakotay, suppressing a chuckle.

* * *

Chakotay also put in some hours in engineering, to get his skills back up to speed. It was good to get his hands dirty again, and he secretly quite enjoyed the novelty of B'Elanna bossing him about, rather than Kathryn.

Kathryn spent a considerable amount of time in the science lab, tutoring the large number of crewmembers who had expressed interest in the seminars she had agreed to lead. She had to set up a waiting list, as her sessions were all over-subscribed.

Tuvok took advantage of the situation to put together a command-level training course, taught by himself and the command team. They had long been aware of the lack of officers with sufficient command-level training or experience, and it was high time they began to plan for the future.

Kathryn did more than just profess her willingness to concede some of the distance of command she had been brought up to believe was essential. She could be found chatting with crewmembers in the mess hall on occasion, and she played regular games of velocity with Seven, as well as with Samantha Wildman now. On the few occasions when Chakotay played her, he was a little taken a back and slightly threatened by how much her game had improved. His ego was also a little dented after the third, consecutive defeat. Hoverball was more his sort of game anyway, not so damned precise and a lot more physical.

He took full advantage of the extra leisure time they all had to improve his fitness levels. Despite the Doctor's very vocal, public outrage, Chakotay organised a small boxing competition, and enjoyed training crewmembers who expressed an interest in the sport. Harry's skill at Parrises Squares became the talk of the ship, when the competition he set up saw him collect the main prize himself, much to his own embarrassment. He swiftly opted out of all subsequent rounds. Seven failed to embrace the concept of _voluntary_ sporting events, and Chakotay had to intervene more than once, when reports made their way to him of Seven press-ganging members of the crew into her velocity tournaments.

They realised social activity would need to increase considerably, to provide stimulation to compensate for the lack of external distractions, so the crew was allocated more leisure time. Chakotay and Kathryn also gained a few hours each day. He was conscious of the fact that there were some crewmembers who were struggling with nihiliphobia, as the Doctor reported there was a steady flow of new cases each week to sickbay, but, all in all, the first few weeks went remarkably smoothly.

The increase in the amount of leisure time, and in the frequency of social occasions, saw a directly related increase in the number of relationships starting up between crewmembers.

Harry Kim's interest in Seven intensified. Chakotay put a friendly hand on the ensign's shoulder and told him as tactfully as he could, that he would need to be a bit more direct with her, as Chakotay could clearly see what Harry could not. Despite spending hours in his company, Seven was so focussed on their tasks as co-ordinators of sporting activities, that she simply failed notice Harry's far too subtle attempts to engage her on a personal level. Harry was adamant he didn't want to be pushy. Seven had told Chakotay she found Harry to be adequately efficient as co-organiser, which Chakotay took to be as good enough a basis as any for optimism concerning Harry's chances with her, if only Harry would accept some advice regarding his tactics. Harry was unmoved though, so Chakotay despaired of them ever finding their way to each other.

As far as his own relationship was concerned, the first two months in the void with predictable routines, no threat of attack, no worry over supplies, and no chance of him being abducted, brainwashed or critically injured in a shuttle crash, afforded him precious time to get used to being with Kathryn in a more 'normal' and predictable situation, crazy as that might seem, given where they were.

The unsustainable, lust-heightened intensity of his desire for her during the first year of the liaison transformed gradually into a more profound and enduring sort of love; the result of a deeper, more intimate exploration of the full range, shape and flavour of her needs and wants, and of all that they could be together. In many ways, this felt like his first really adult relationship. There was no question about it, no woman had ever known him the way she did now, and he had never felt love even remotely like this for anyone before.

He grew gradually more hopeful, that there would come a day when she would no longer feel the need to keep their involvement secret. As time had gone by, he'd become more and more convinced that it just wasn't necessary. If they were to openly acknowledge their relationship, he honestly didn't think it would impact much on how either of them was perceived by the crew.

He resolved to broach the subject with her again soon.


	5. Chapter 5

They had been crossing the void for a little over two months, when Tuvok actually found something to report - increased readings of theta radiation - so, they changed course to investigate.

A few hours later at 23.30, the lights in Chakotay's quarters suddenly went out. The darkness was total. He stilled the movement of her hips with his hands.

"Power failure?" She was instantly on task. The new task. He could feel the new tension through her body.

"Odd, our reserves are fine." He ordered the computer to raise the lights. No response. "Damn. Looks like power _is_ down."

"Better get to the bridge," she husked.

"Agree..ed," he groaned as he lifted her off him and sat up. He could hear her cursing, as she swept her hands across the bed and then the floor.

"Here." He reached out in the blackness and thrust the scrap of fabric he'd found towards her. "Wait a second," he said, as he slid off the bed and felt his way towards the place he kept his flashlight, switched it on and pointed the beam towards her.

She was on her hands and knees now, groping on the floor. _Damn that power failure! _"I can't find the comm badges!"

He angled the flashlight towards the nightstand. The stand itself was on its side and items of clothing were strewn around it. "Guess you must have knocked them off earlier," he chuckled.

"Me?!"

"No time to find them now; comm system'll be down anyway. We've obviously still got life-support, the temperature's not dropping, so environmental controls are still functioning. Maybe other independent sub-systems are still working too?"

"Let's go find out."

They were ready within minutes, wearing the pieces of their uniforms that had been easiest to locate (Chakotay didn't have time to find his turtle neck or jacket - tank top would have to do) and they immediately made their way out.

She was slightly ahead of him. He would have had to concede she was always a nanosecond ahead of him, when it came to making the switch back to command. She led them to the nearest access hatch. "I'll take the Jeffries tube to engineering and get an emergency power cell to hook up down there."

"I'll meet you there, after I've checked in on the bridge. Good job I've got some energy to burn off here, this is going to be one long night." As he spoke, he angled the flashlight so he could see her better.

Her hair was a little messy and even in this minimal light, he could tell she was still flushed. He could also tell that her mind was buzzing, fired up to take on this crisis and get it under control; she was absolutely magnificent.

He flicked off the flashlight and pulled her body flush against him and found her open mouth with his. He swallowed the small noise of surprise she made, and she pushed back against him a little, but without sufficient conviction to break the connection. He took full advantage and delved in to savour the taste of her, until she finally pulled back and broke the kiss. Immediately, he switched the flashlight back on.

"Chakotay!" She hissed at him, "What…"

"It's pitch black, Kathryn, and there's no one here."

"That's not the point!"

"Go save the ship. You can chastise me later. As much as you like," he growled.

"Get out of here!"

* * *

The morning after they'd escaped from the void, Tom Paris strolled into the mess hall, ready to take on whatever delight was in store for breakfast.

He was in a good mood, and had just been thinking about how to persuade the Captain to allow him to continue with some of the social activities he'd organised, when they were still stuck in the void. That wasn't to say he missed being in there obviously! When they had been attacked by aliens native to that blank space, then introduced to an unsavoury Malon freighter captain dumping toxic waste there, it had become clear that the rest of their journey through the void would be much more eventful and much less relaxing.

He stood in front of the hatch and waited for Neelix, who was bent over some large pan in the back of the galley.

The unmistakable sound of Janeway laughing floated over to him and he turned to see her sitting opposite Chakotay at their usual table. He wasn't surprised she was happy. Her risky but inspired plan to take the ship through the wormhole they'd found and then collapse it behind them had actually worked. They'd escaped the void and cut two years off their journey, and in doing so, had deprived the Malon of their short cut to dump their toxic waste. Everyone's spirits were high.

"Tom! What can I get you today?"

"I'll have whatever they're having!" he quipped, as he nodded his head towards the command team.

"I don't think you'll find that on the menu," chuckled the Talaxian conspiratorially, as he juggled the pan lids, the serving spoon and a plate for Tom.

"Oh?" Paris replied, raising his eyebrows.

Without looking up, Neelix prattled on. "But I do have a rather special omelette, I think it'll be right up your street," and he slid the wobbly, grey looking creation onto a plate and handed it to Tom, before he could protest.

Tom was about to question Neelix further, when he saw Seven approaching him purposefully. Having so far avoided being conscripted for velocity, he was keen to keep it that way, so he quickly put the plate down.

"Thanks, Neelix, but I've actually just remembered I've already eaten," and he fled.

* * *

A week later, just as their shift ended, Chakotay suggested to Kathryn they go for a drink in Sandrine's. There'd been a slight hesitation, and then she'd agreed. Just a quick drink, she'd said.

For a while now, he'd been wondering whether it would be easier to persuade her to consider revealing their relationship to the crew, if, first, they began to openly spend a little social time together. His reasoning was that if they were seen in social settings enjoying each other's company as friends now, when they decided the time was right to make their relationship public, it would elicit less of a reaction.

To date, they had successfully maintained the appearance of a considerable distance between them socially, so if the news of their involvement were to be made public now, the shock would mean that it would remain a topic of conversation for some time to come. Something he knew they would both want to avoid. Some time soon, he knew he wanted to have a conversation with her about this. He just hadn't seemed to actually initiate it yet.

They'd been sitting at the bar chatting for half an hour or so already, when Chakotay looked up to see Tom Paris standing just inside the entrance, looking over towards them.

Chakotay suddenly became all too aware that his arm was draped across the back of Kathryn's chair. They weren't actually touching, but from where Tom was standing, Chakotay realised it would look as if his arm was around her shoulders. Immediately, he repositioned himself. As he did so, he also became aware of how close together they were sitting. He must have gravitated towards her without his being aware of it. He cursed his own complacency.

He looked away from Paris to Kathryn, and saw that she'd already taken the pilot in, and was also well aware of his gaze. As Paris started to make his way towards them, they both shifted away from each other even more. She angled herself away from Tom as he approached and her eyes flickered back to find Chakotay's. The single glance that passed between them left Chakotay certain that she was as convinced as he was, that they had just given themselves away. _Damn_.

He wondered just how long Paris had been standing there. He realised that just watching them together, when they thought they were unobserved, would probably be enough to give them away to someone with Paris's sixth sense.

"Good evening Captain, Chakotay," Paris offered innocently, as he settled himself into the seat next to Kathryn and ordered a drink. He didn't say anything else, but he didn't bother suppress a tiny smirk and there was a flash of something akin to amusement in his eyes. Kathryn stood abruptly.

"I hope you're not leaving on my account, Captain," Paris turned to her in mock surprise, "if you two wanted a little privacy, you only had to say so. I know when I'm not wanted."

"I don't know what you mean, Tom," Kathryn began evenly, but unable to completely eradicate all trace of tension from her voice. "Chakotay and I were just discussing the events of the last few days, nothing confidential, I assure you."

"OK then," Tom replied, less cocky than he'd started out; perhaps he was picking up on the steel just beneath the surface of her oh-so-professional reply? "Can I get you another drink?"

"No, thank you, I was just leaving. Good night, Tom, Chakotay. See you in the morning." She left at a brisk pace.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Tom turned to Chakotay and said, "Well, someone's a little _touchy_ this evening!"

"Watch it, Paris." Chakotay stiffened. "She's just tired and ready to turn in for the night, that's all."

"Well, you two looked pretty cosy when I walked in, and I didn't get the impression she was about to call it a night then. Not until I was part of the picture, that is!"

"I'm warning you, Tom, just drop it."

"OK, OK! Sorry! I just don't know why you're both suddenly so touchy!"

That was enough. Chakotay was through with this farce, if Paris used the word 'touchy' one more time, he swore he'd swing for him right there. He cursed himself again for being so careless. He decided he needed to get this under control immediately, so he stood, clamped his hand firmly on the helmsman's shoulder and leant in just a little too close.

His voice was smooth and low and just a little too calm. "If you breathe a word about what you think you know, Paris, I'll make you regret it."

Then he followed her out.

* * *

Tom was left in a state of complete shock, as their behaviour and Chakotay's parting threat confirmed something he hadn't actually suspected for years. The back end of a little light flirting was all he thought he'd interrupted. He had just wondered if he'd been witness to Chakotay _finally_ making a little headway with her. He'd had no idea the man had made_ that_ much headway already!

As he watched Chakotay stalk out, he found himself remembering the flash of something almost like panic he'd seen cross the Captain's face, when he'd first caught her eye. She'd moved abruptly away from her first officer, and he'd seen them do that telepathic communication thing they do sometimes, before they'd moved even further apart.

He replayed the conversation he'd just had with them in his head, and suddenly realised how they'd understood his flippant comments. He really hadn't thought twice at the time, about how else his words might be taken.

_Well I'll be…._

_Damn they're good!_

He sat back and took a long pull on his drink, as he joined the dots.

Neelix's comment at breakfast that morning a few days ago; the fact they both appeared the night of the power failure without their comm badges, which was unlike either of them - and very little of Chakotay's uniform, now that he came to think of it; and _of course!_ Most obvious of all, now that he knew - their super-human ability to withstand those two months in the void! Who needs outside stimulus, when you're in the can't-get-enough-of-each-other phase?

And then, there was the time, two days after leaving the void, when he'd treated her hand in sickbay. It had been the morning after that away mission, where Chakotay's team found some plum-like fruit that had caused a purple rash, several hours after exposure to the irritant. She'd told him she'd handled Chakotay's fruit in the cargo bay, to inspect it... Tom smiled.

He sat back to consider what the picture he had just uncovered meant exactly.

Just how _long_ had they been pulling this off?


	6. Chapter 6

As soon as Chakotay and Kathryn were alone, later that evening, he reassured her he'd contained the situation with Paris. She looked uneasy and sighed, saying she just hoped he was right. Then, she initiated the conversation he'd been hoping to usher in himself, under very different circumstances and from the opposing point of view.

She said spending time together in front of the crew was a mistake. She told him point blank that they needed to stick to their routines of separate leisure time. Just breakfast occasionally and dinner once a week, in the mess hall.

He began to explain his reasoning about making a gradual change so they appeared more 'friendly' with each other, but she dismissed the idea immediately. She said they'd just proved pretty conclusively that they couldn't control how others were likely to perceive them. They weren't skilled enough actors to hit the right level of friendliness, without their familiarity with each other being all too evident. She was adamant she didn't want to risk it and couldn't see enough reason to anyway. They were fine as they were.

She was a worthy opponent in any debate and this was no exception, and with him, she had the added advantage of those diversionary tactics, which had a one hundred per cent success rate to date.

She slid into his lap to straddle him and did that thing he loved, where she held his face in her hands and slowly threaded her fingers up into his hair, before she kissed him hard, deep, long and demanding... and suddenly she was absolutely right, it didn't seem so important anymore. Why would they want to have to deal with other people's reactions? It could distract them from giving of their best as leaders. They had each other, that was what mattered.

* * *

A week or so later, Chakotay found himself sitting with Tom Paris to finish his dinner, after B'Elanna left saying she had something she wanted to oversee in engineering. It was the first time they'd been alone together since that evening in Sandrine's and Chakotay was all too aware of it. He was certain Tom was too. The minute B'Elanna had gone, Tom started to look around them, as if assessing whether or not they could be overheard.

Within seconds he began. "Look, Chakotay, I get it you know."

Chakotay met his direct, watchful gaze. "Get what?"

"I haven't said anything, not even to B'Elanna, you know that, right?" Chakotay looked down and a muscle flexed involuntarily in his jaw.

"You'd know if I had, we both know that. So you can relax."

He looked up again to meet those cool, all-too-perceptive, blue eyes.

Paris seemed undeterred by the one-sidedness of this conversation and went on. "So you can stop watching me like I'm under surveillance or something."

"Watching you?"

"Yeah! You know what I mean! I'm sick of feeling your eyes on the back of my neck all the time."

Chakotay looked out of the viewport for a moment, then back at Tom. Tom seemed to interpret this as some sort of acknowledgement.

"And for what it's worth, I hope it works out for you."

Chakotay stood and as he picked up his tray, he looked across to reconnect with the helmsman's discerning gaze. If Paris thought he was about to open up and bare his soul to him, he'd be sorely disappointed. Still, he was profoundly grateful that Paris had kept his mouth shut.

"Good night, Tom."

Chakotay's tone was measured, Paris's subdued.

"Good night, Chakotay."

* * *

A month later, the Devore stretched Kathryn and Chakotay's arrangement to its limits.

She entertained the Inspector late into the evening.

Chakotay sat brooding in his quarters in the dark.

He hated everything about her plan, but he had to concede it might work. In any case, he hadn't managed to come up with a better one. Something in that arrogant bastard's eyes convinced him the Inspector had guessed the nature of his relationship with the Captain and was savouring every minute of the dangerous game he was playing with them.

On the morning of the final inspection, Chakotay hadn't been able to stop himself. As he watched her pull on her uniform jacket and apply her lipstick, the comment just issued from his lips. "If you'd been at liberty to introduce me as your partner, as well as your first officer, then you might not be finding yourself in this position."

She paused, then turned to fix him with a look of infuriating sympathy and a tinge of something else. "Do you honestly think that he would have behaved any differently?"

"Maybe." He studied the carpet, unwilling to see more of what her eyes held.

"It would have been something he'd have dismissed instantly, Chakotay. Or it would've just added another layer to his pleasure, in manipulating us both."

He said nothing more, but as he watched her walk out, he knew somewhere in his darker self that she was absolutely right.

The Inspector left just before Chakotay would've found himself blowing the conceited shark and his ship to eternity.

She returned from the shuttle bay tense and flushed. She held his gaze and told him that she'd kissed Kashyk; that it had been necessary for the part she was playing. She was clearly more than a little nervous as to how he'd react, and that made him feel wretched. Why? Why didn't she feel confident he'd believe her? He had to believe her. He so _wanted _to believe her.

He disappeared into the holodeck for two hours.

When he came back, he rang the chime to her quarters and stood dripping with sweat in the corridor for anyone to see, waiting for her to answer. When she let him in, she didn't reference his indiscretion at all. She didn't resist either when he pulled her straight into the shower with him. He made love to her with a demanding and fired urgency she was unlikely to forget.

* * *

The days and weeks that followed were complicated.

Chakotay felt different.

Before the Devore inspector had succeeded in getting under his skin, under her skin, he'd been more content. His reservations about their situation had been under control.

Now, he found himself craving reassurance from her that their relationship was just that, a relationship, not just a convenient arrangement for meeting certain needs. Right from the beginning, he hadn't held back with her. She knew exactly what she was to him. Now, he found he was losing some of that sense of certainty he'd once had about exactly what he was to her.

* * *

On shore leave one evening, he sat at the bar with Ayala in a gem of a restaurant, overlooking a spectacular canyon of yellow and orange-layered rock. He watched as Paris and B'Elanna seated themselves on the far side of the room at a small table, for an intimate, candlelit dinner.

This was a breathtakingly beautiful place. It was a place they would never return to in their lifetimes, and Kathryn was sitting in her quarters, reading some dry old book, while he was here with his friend, whom he loved like a brother, but who couldn't be expected to make up for Kathryn's absence. She belonged here, sharing this with him.

Life was too short for this sort of foolishness. He was too old for it.

* * *

"How was your evening?"

"Good, but there was a hole next to me in that restaurant that kind of distracted me."

"Oh? A hole?"

"Yes, a hole."

"What sort of a hole?"

"A hole about this height… and about this wide, shapely legs, elegant, expressive hands…"

"So, Mike wasn't feeling talkative tonight then?"

"You should have come down, Kathryn, it was a beautiful place, truly. We don't often come across planets that conform so closely to our ideas of natural beauty, or make us re-evaluate them even. It's a shame you didn't see it."

"Well, I can always take a look first thing before we break orbit, if it's really as spectacular as you say."

"I guess." He studied the carpet.

"What?"

_Like you don't know?_ "That isn't really what I meant."

"Look… I don't see the point in dwelling on things that aren't possible. You know how I feel."

"Yes I do, but I'm not so sure the reverse is true."

She put her book down. "Just say it, Chakotay."

He seated himself next to her and exhaled before he began. "I just don't think we need this secrecy anymore. It's time we dealt with the crew's reaction and moved on."

She rose and moved towards the replicator. He waited. When she'd returned with a coffee for herself and a tea he didn't want, she fixed him with that gaze that saw right through him. "I'm sorry if this isn't…. enough…. for you anymore." She didn't look sorry. She looked resigned, disappointed in him.

"Kathryn I …" He reached for her hand; it was stiff in his. "Of course, you are enough for me. You're all I want and there isn't a part of me that isn't yours."

"But?"

He sighed and looked away again, unsure for a moment of exactly how to go on from here. "I guess I just wonder why it's still so important to you to keep our relationship a secret."

"We've been through this before. You know why."

"No, actually. I don't. Not any more."

She bristled visibly and swallowed. Her lips became a thin line. "What do you mean?"

"Well, we were both worried about whether we'd cope with the demands of command and of a relationship, and I think the last two years have shown that those concerns, though understandable, were unwarranted. We've managed just fine. More than fine."

"But that wasn't the only reason."

"No, of course. You were worried about the crew's reaction."

"And aren't you?"

"Honestly? No. I just don't think it'll make much difference to anyone, other than us."

"You don't know that."

"Of course I don't. But I just wonder sometimes why you're so determined to keep this secret now? What we have here, well…for me…" He paused.

"Go on."

He sighed, and held her hand firmly, hoping the warmth their connection could generate would do something to dissipate the increasing tension of this conversation. "For me, it's a strength. I see it as a strength that we have each other. And I wonder about… whether you do too."

"What do you mean?"

When he spoke again, his voice was lower, even gentler, as he did all he could to prevent his next question being received as an accusation. "Well do you? See this as something that gives you strength or… as something else."

"You mean you believe I think our being together is evidence of a weakness on my part?"

Her defensive tone saddened him. He was silent for a moment and held her gaze. It was too late now, so he ploughed on. "Well, do you?"

She didn't reply immediately and looked away to a point just above his shoulder to watch the stars passing, before finally answering. "No. That isn't how I see our being… together."

It twisted something inside him, that after two years, she could still hardly bring herself to say it out loud. "Then how do you see it, Kathryn?"

Her eyes found his again. Suddenly, everything he could see there made him wish he'd just kept his big mouth shut.

He was pushing her, and that wasn't wise. It ran the risk of her withdrawing. He hadn't thought this through. Ever since she'd finally let him in after the shuttle crash two years ago and he'd opened his soul to her, he'd had no strategy with her other than to love her as much as she'd allow him to.

She didn't answer his question. He didn't press her again, but he knew he needed an answer at some point, because he honestly wasn't sure how she did see their being together anymore.

* * *

The following days were demanding for both of them. Seven inadvertently helped the Doctor access some specific memories they had deleted from his programme. It had been all they could think of to do, when his reflections upon the consequences of his decisions about the triage of patients had caused a conflict in his programming that couldn't be resolved. After much debate, the Doctor and Seven persuaded Kathryn to allow him the time to try and resolve it himself. Consequently, senior members of staff took shifts baby-sitting him in the holodeck, while the ethical debate raged between his subroutines. Kathryn took the lion's share.

Even though Chakotay knew Kathryn was shattered, she made a point of finding time to talk to him every night. She came to him even if it was so late it was already early, just to hold and be held. She gave more, with such tenderness he was humbled. And she clung to him like he was her lifeline sometimes. It was an answer of sorts to his question that had hung between them; it meant something and it made him feel better.

* * *

A week later, she was forced to dress up and play a part in Paris's holodeck programme, in order to come to the aid of some photonic, alien life forms. A few hours later, she discovered Chakotay had some pretty involved fantasies about peeling her out of tight-fitting dresses.

For the first time in five years, he was late for his morning bridge shift.

* * *

Three months later, he almost lost his sanity fighting and then giving in to the attempts at communication of a species that were unable to make contact, except by tapping into the most chaotic part of his mind.

He was terrified his ravings would scare her into retreat from intimacy with him, but she supported him unreservedly throughout the whole ordeal. She held him as he faced the demons that visited him in his dreams afterwards - demons that abandoned him sweating and trembling. When he awoke to find she'd stuck with him, quite literally, he was at once ashamed and so profoundly grateful.

Ashamed he had asked for more, when she was giving him so much already. And grateful that he still had the love of this incredible woman who held them all together with her sheer willpower some days.


	7. Chapter 7

As they entered the sixth year of their journey, they answered a distress call from another Starfleet vessel and all hell broke loose.

Kathryn and Chakotay completely failed to keep their difference of opinion professional. Within hours, just like with the Borg alliance, it had become deeply personal. Except this time it was worse. Much worse. One of the differences this time around was that neither of them had the time to pause for much-needed reflection, while the other lay incapacitated or vulnerable on a biobed. They were both fighting fit and fighting each other every step of the way.

He tried and tried to get through to her, but Captain Ransom's fall from grace seemed to tap into some of her most deep-seated fears and she refused to listen, to anyone, not even Tuvok. In turn, Chakotay refused to sit back and watch her cross the line to the moral swamp he'd already found himself wading through as a Maquis cell leader; so she relieved him of duty.

* * *

"Yes, I'll say it again if I have to, you almost killed that man today." He all but shouted.

"And I told you, it was a calculated risk, and I was prepared to take it." No shouting here, she was all control, to his lack of it.

"No, you weren't." He lowered his volume. He wouldn't have his opinion dismissed just because she was more skilled at keeping her cool.

"Yes, I was. You can't tell me what I was or wasn't prepared to do! You aren't the only one who can do what they shouldn't when it's necessary."

"What do you mean?"

"You know," her steel blue gaze cut through him.

"Oh, I see. So now I'm a hypocrite, because I don't agree with you?"

"Well, we both know…"

She stopped and turned away from him. He felt the heat rise up through his chest to his face. He knew he was fast losing it again, but she shouldn't go there. She wouldn't, would she? _Really? _Is that how low they'd sunk here?

"We both know what? What do we both know, Kathryn?" Now he was shouting. "We both know I've done worse. Is that it?"

She turned back and met his gaze, defiant.

But he wasn't done. "Would you have done that in front of Tuvok? No, in front of _Harry_?"

They both knew the answer to that already.

"No, because you wouldn't have wanted to compromise his moral integrity, would you? But it's okay to expect me to tie a man down and just stand by while he's murdered, isn't it. Because we both know my moral integrity's been compromised to hell and back already, don't we?"

"I shouldn't have said that, and I'm sorry," she took a step away from him, but she wasn't backing down, "What I meant is that there are times in Starfleet, when the regulations can have too much of a stranglehold if you let them, and get in the way of what needs to be done. And I had the bigger picture in mind."

"You needed me to stop you."

"No, I didn't. I could've handled it."

He sat down and forced himself to wait for the swell of the anger he'd felt to subside a little, before he replied. "No. You couldn't. Not the fallout afterwards. You're forgetting here that I know you, Kathryn. If you'd let those creatures kill Lessing, the guilt would've destroyed you. Maybe not today, but soon."

"Not if it was in the interest of the ship, of our crew. You just can't see that bigger picture sometimes, Chakotay. You're stuck in the here and now, in the minutia, in each tiny detail!" She seemed exasperated with him, as if he were a recalcitrant child.

He was on his feet again before he knew it, but at least he wasn't shouting. His reply, through gritted teeth, was actually so low it was only just audible. "A man's life isn't a detail."

That seemed to get through. She pinched the bridge of her nose and looked down to the floor, then back up at him. She took a deep breath before replying. "No, it isn't, but that's not what I meant. Look…I'm sorry if I disappointed you, but that's really not my problem."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know...perhaps it was a bad call, but you always want me to be a shining example of all that's...right, incorruptible, uncompromised, and I can't always live up to that."

"Don't be so childish, Kathryn, I have no such illusions. I don't know whose expectations you're talking about, but they sure as hell aren't mine. I don't expect you to be anything other than human."

Could this woman _be _more frustrating? Why couldn't she see he just wanted to save her from the inevitable anguish that would have resulted from certain choices?

* * *

When it was over, he tried to make tentative moves back towards normality, whatever that was.

She apologised, sort of, and he accepted her apology and apologised too, sort of, but everything between them was beyond strained.

There were extensive repairs to be done, and so for days, they were both effectively on duty all the time, and there would have been no time to talk things through at length even if they'd tried. And they didn't.

At first, he couldn't forget the way she'd used what he'd told her about his past, nor the way she'd dismissed his judgment as being poor, near-sighted. Her words kept reverberating around his head. He felt useless to her professionally and in every other way.

The first evening they had to themselves, he went to her quarters, hoping they could make a start on moving past all this, but she sent him away, saying she was exhausted and had a headache. He suspected he knew exactly what she was doing and there was no way he was going to let her do it without a fight. No, not another fight, he'd find another way.

* * *

Another two days passed, and he'd long since forgiven her for everything that had happened, but as she wouldn't talk to him, he had to presume she still hadn't forgiven him. Perhaps she still wasn't done punishing herself yet either?

His feelings about what had happened had evolved. He was a lot less angry with her and a lot more so with himself, for failing to find a way to help her see that the course of action she was contemplating was misguided. He should have found a way to talk to her without getting himself relieved of duty. He picked the wrong time to sound off, after the event like that, it was bad judgement on his part and he'd failed her as her first officer. He should've hung in there somehow. They were both to blame.

She had to give him a minimum of direction as to what to do with the Equinox five, and when she did, she seemed intent on adhering to every single Starfleet protocol in the book, as if to prove to herself, to them, to him? that she could never be like Ransom. The new crewmembers could be in absolutely no doubt they were now aboard a very Starfleet vessel, serving under a captain who was Starfleet through and through. One who lived and breathed regulations and protocol and wasn't about to make any allowances for anything or anybody just because they were a long way from headquarters.

* * *

When Kathryn finally let Chakotay into her quarters the following evening, they had docked at the Markonian outpost.

It had been one long day. They had been busy meeting representatives of the space station's administration and some of the traders they had selected as possible suppliers for a wide range of resources they would do well to stock up on while they could.

They both had a full schedule of meetings ahead of them for the following day as well, and so he didn't intend to start some lengthy, draining debate with her now. He just wanted to spend some time in her company to make it clear that he was more than ready for them to put the whole Equinox disaster behind them, and to start finding their way back to one another.

Almost immediately they'd seated themselves on her sofa, she launched into it.

She told him it'd been a mistake for them to ever think they could combine a relationship with command. They'd been lucky for the first three years, but their luck had run out. It was time they faced that and accepted it. It was just too much to deal with. She should never have ignored protocol, just because it was inconvenient. The protocols were there for a reason, and the two of them had just lived through some of the dire consequences of ignoring them.

It was nothing if not predictable. She might as well have added "And I don't want to end up like Ransom." But that wasn't to say it wasn't heartfelt. Clearly it was.

As she finished speaking, he reached for her hand and he witnessed her tense. He ignored it and took her hand between his, regardless. His voice was low and level, doing all he could to make this conversation as different as possible from the last one they'd had.

"I think you're seeing a connection where there isn't one. I don't think what's happened means our being together is a mistake."

"How can you say that, after everything?" Her expression held no antagonism this time. She really seemed genuinely bewildered that he could see things so differently.

"Because whether we were together or not, we probably would've clashed about how to proceed." They held each other's gaze and he could see that this was a real conversation. She really was open to hearing what he had to say.

"Yes, but the things we said… I _used_ things you've told me. Things I would never have known, if we weren't...intimate."

"And I can't promise we won't ever do that again, but I'm guessing both of us will be more careful next time."

"I might have listened more carefully to your point of view, if we weren't so close. The increased distance might've meant I'd have accorded you more respect. I just felt like I already knew what you were going to say, and it's easier to dismiss what seems familiar. The things I said… I hurt you."

"And I hurt you. I know that and I'm sorry, we're both sorry. That's what matters. It's impossible to know whether our being involved made things worse than they would've been anyway, Kathryn. We just can't know that for sure. "

She listened in silence, eyes full. He so wished she could see things a little less... compartmentalised, less clear cut sometimes. He went on, determined. "I can see you still need time, time to make your peace with it, and that's your right, but I'm telling you, we're not done here. Not by a long way. So when you're ready, I'll still be here, and we'll talk."

She still didn't reply, but she hadn't withdrawn her hand. Finally her voice came, uneven, raw. "I'm so sorry, Chakotay. I don't know what else to say at the moment. I feel like I've failed you too. I just need time to think this through, on my own. I've lost some of my sense of certainty about how much I can cope with out here. I warned you at the beginning that I might not be able to give you enough of what you need from someone, and right now, I feel stretched... so thin. Right now, I'm struggling to feel up to the job of captaining this ship indefinitely through so many unknowns, I don't feel like there's space or time for anything else sometimes. I'm sorry, I just don't know if I can do...both... anymore."

He'd been half expecting something like this and he already knew what he wanted to say.

First, he leant in and pressed the gentlest of kisses to her lips. She didn't pull away, but she closed her eyes. As she did so, tears were forced out beneath her eyelids and made their way slowly down her cheeks. It really was absurd sometimes, how much he loved this impossible woman.

"We _can _work this out, Kathryn. You need to resist the impulse to give up because it's been difficult. You need to have a little faith in us. We aren't another problem you're responsible for, that's looking for a decision or a solution. You need to just let us be."

He kissed the tears away from one of her cheeks and then the other. He couldn't help himself, it just felt so good to touch her again. Then he took both her hands and held them between his.

"I need..." She wouldn't look at him.

"Tell me. What do you need?"

"I need... to be sure about this again, before I can face anyone _judging _me right now - judging me for giving in to this, judging us for being together."

He really only heard the 'giving in' part of what she said and he sighed. "I'm sorry you see it that way."

Her eyes were suddenly on him, desperately searching his face. "Look, I don't mean that I... God, I can't bear this, Chakotay! I can't bear it if you think I don't..."

He held her gaze, looking for what he needed to see there and found it. "I don't. Think that."

She hesitated for a split second, then she took his face in her hands and brought her lips to his and kissed him. He knew what was real, and this woman still loved him. But then again, that wasn't the problem, never really had been. The only time he'd doubted that had been as a result of his own insecurities.

She drew back just enough to rest her forehead against his for a moment, eyes closed. When she seemed to have collected herself again, she sat back. He just hoped she wasn't steeling herself for some sort of ending. So he started immediately.

"I know what's happening here, Kathryn, so like I said, if you need time to think, then you've got it. But that means that you don't decide _now_ that this is over. Take time. First. Before decisions are made."

"Okay. "She looked a little less wretched.

He pulled her to him, and she let him envelop her in his embrace. He could feel her trying to suppress a sob, as she turned into him and buried her face in his chest.

He despaired at how damn hard she could be on herself sometimes. He would give her time, but there was no way he was going to just sit back and watch her push him away and isolate herself again. Not after everything. Not anymore.

TBC... Thank you to everyone who's sticking with this... still a few more chapters to come.


	8. Chapter 8

The Delta Quadrant seemed to have selected them for special attention over the days and weeks that followed. They seemed to lurch from one crisis to another with very little plain sailing in between.

They entered a period where one crewmember after another experienced a major personal trauma. First Seven, then B'Elanna, then Tom then Tuvok. Chakotay watched as Kathryn gave of herself as never before, to counsel and support each one of them through their ordeals.

As soon as one crisis was over, another seemed to have already begun, and sometimes they didn't even have the good grace to wait their turn and they overlapped. Difficulties locating materials that occurred naturally on any number of planets in the Alpha Quadrant; queues of irrationally hostile aliens wanting a piece of them; unexplained phenomena with the potential to destroy them appearing slap-bang in the middle of their flight path. It was beyond a joke some days.

It was as if the universe had decided to illustrate Kathryn's point that when you were captaining a lone starship on an endless journey across unknown territory, you weren't really left with the time or energy to devote to a personal life.

Chakotay had to concede that during this time, he too felt like he was spread pretty thin. It still didn't change his conviction that he and Kathryn would have been stronger together, than as there were now…. which was what exactly? He wasn't really sure. They maintained their familiar routines in public, and the crew, with one notable exception, wouldn't have perceived much difference. And the notable exception knew better than to say anything.

There was less playful banter though. Chakotay couldn't bring himself to continue with his predictably unsuccessful, public courting of the Captain. He didn't invite her to dinner any more, because it just didn't feel right now. The dynamic had changed and he found he didn't have it in him to send himself up like that anymore. It just wouldn't have been funny now, for either of them.

Despite everything Kathryn had said about needing time on her own and space to think away from him, Chakotay discovered that there was something that he had been right about.

She didn't seem to be able to give up completely what they'd had, even now, when her sense of duty was demanding that she did. Even though she'd put their official unofficial relationship on hold while she did her thinking, in its place a doubly unofficial relationship seemed to have silently sprouted.

The first time she came to his quarters, late one night, she looked uncertain as to whether she'd be welcome. He immediately disabused her of that misconception.

As they lay entwined in his bed later, she repeated that she'd got no further in feeling sure about what she thought they should do. He listened patiently to the workings of her mind, as her body wrapped itself around his as much as was physically possible.

He had said he would give her time and he was determined to honour that, so he loved her and held her and they fused together like before.

The difference now was that he never knew how long it would be until she would appear again in his quarters, late at night. As an inevitable result, the few nights they did spend together were charged and emotional. Aside from that very first night, they didn't talk about things. He had no expectation that they would. That wasn't what she was coming for and he was OK with that. They did what came most naturally to them and he was more than OK with that.

He could see that, for now, it had to be on her terms or not at all. And he didn't like the 'not at all' option any more than it seemed she did. There was an unspoken understanding that she would come to him, in his quarters, if she needed to be with him, but not the reverse. He respected that, and even when he wanted her, he waited. For now.

In any case, it had been such a difficult few months that there had been very little time to dwell on their situation. He had fallen into bed exhausted more times than he could remember recently – so exhausted he hadn't actually been awake long enough to miss her.

They coped well on duty. He supported her in every way and she listened when he offered advice,_ really_ listened. Neither wanted the other to fail, so there was no pettiness. In terms of their working relationship, they were still instinctively in tune with one another, and continued to function as a supremely effective command unit. The relentless flow of unpredictable and perilous situations required them to be at their best on duty and so they made sure they were.

* * *

Finally, there was some calm space ahead and just as Chakotay was ready to switch his focus back to redefining things with Kathryn, Paris introduced the crew to Fair Haven.

The uncomplicated Irish barkeep listened to her troubles and she chalked up some serious time in the holodeck.

Her complicated first officer visited the simulation once and then chalked up some serious time in the other holosuite.

Chakotay and B'Elanna were amongst those crewmembers who didn't really take to Fair Haven.

The one time he had been in, he'd run into Kathryn on the arm of the hologram. She'd been dressed in what looked to Chakotay like an extremely uncomfortable period costume, and she was clearly embarrassed that he had seen her. His more rational self was grateful she was actually allowing herself to relax, and he didn't want to be the cause of her discomfort, so he figured he'd stay away.

He'd gone in to meet Neelix there for a drink, to see what all the fuss was about, and if he was honest, to check out the bartender hologram. B'Elanna had already mentioned to him that the Captain was spending a fair few hours in its company and he wanted to see for himself. After that he didn't go back. Even if Kathryn hadn't been so uncomfortable seeing him, he probably wouldn't have gone back anyway. After the fifth consecutive explanation he'd had to give about the origins of his tattoo, he was becoming a little tired of the place. If they hadn't seen many men with a tattoo, he wasn't really surprised B'Elanna hadn't bothered with the simulation at all. There probably weren't that many Klingons walking the streets of 19th Century Ireland.

Consequently, he and B'Elanna had plenty of opportunities to beat each other up and call it hoverball, and to have dinner together afterwards in the mess hall. The hours and hours he spent pounding his holographic opponents in his boxing simulation and the hours he spent on the hoverball court, meant that he toned up noticeably.

* * *

Over dinner one night, B'Elanna asked him if he was trying to get fit for a reason. He looked at her blankly. She smiled and said she thought not. Then she went on to tell him his newly toned physique hadn't gone unnoticed on the lower decks and there was speculation among the crew about what his motives might be for getting into shape. According to B'Elanna, people were saying that perhaps he'd finally given up with his spectacularly unsuccessful attempts at trying to romance the Captain and might now be preparing to start dating. It didn't look like they were going to be getting home anytime soon, and other people had already started to pair off. He avoided those big, brown eyes and said he was sorry to disappoint, but he was just enjoying the luxury of time to spend on things he enjoyed for once, and there was no ulterior motive worthy of the crew's attention.

She looked long and hard at him, then said, "You know what, Chakotay, maybe you should think about it? Is it really such a bad idea? I mean, don't get mad at me for saying this, but even I kind of thought you'd _finally_ given up bashing your head against the brick wall that is Janeway too. So, why not?"

"B'Elanna... I don't..."

"You might be surprised how easy it could be. I mean, look at you! You're not _that_ old. And then there's Gilmore, she's always had a thing for you - don't pretend you haven't noticed. And hey! It's even possible she hasn't heard about you and Janeway yet - maybe you should get in there? Fast, before someone tells her?"

She told him that speculation was also rife about the exact nature of the Captain's relationship with the holographic bar tender. As he made a conscious effort to unclench the fist that his right hand had become whilst she was speaking, he told B'Elanna he thought the crew had too much free time on their hands, if they were dreaming up these sorts of fantasies.

* * *

Then, Tom Paris came to Chakotay's quarters one night uninvited. He said he had something to say that Chakotay needed to hear.

They stood awkwardly in the small living space. Chakotay thought vaguely that he should probably offer Tom a drink or something, or a seat? But he was still wondering whether it'd be better to just get rid of him, as he wasn't sure he wanted to hear whatever it was anyway. While he was still considering what to do, Paris began.

He said he just wanted Chakotay to know that there was absolutely no substance to the rumours about the Captain and the holographic bar tender. He said he didn't care whether Chakotay wanted to talk to him about it or not, he was going to tell him.

"What do you think she talks to him about?"

Hands resting on his hips, his head dipped, Chakotay forced himself to look up to meet Tom's gaze. "I don't know, Tom. You're the one with the answers here, it seems."

"You. She goes there to talk to him about you."

Now that _wasn't _what he was expecting Paris to say.

"Yes. Surprised me too, but it's true. Michael told me."

Chakotay looked at him quizzically.

"The hologram. He's called Michael."

"Right."

"He said 'Katie' has some man troubles, and he's been offering her a friendly ear. Also told me he thinks the man's a damn fool, for letting such an amazing woman get so tangled up in her own worries she can hardly think straight. He said she's _lonely_, Chakotay, and all she wants is a friend. Not that he isn't disappointed that's all she wants."

"So do you get it? Or do I need to spell it out? She's confiding in him because she's lonely and confused, and the crew have filled in all the blanks and made it something it isn't. She needs someone to talk to, about you, Chakotay. It's not exactly as if she can talk to anyone on the ship about it, is it? Who's she going to tell that she's fallen in love with her first officer, Tuvok? Seven? _Neelix_?"

Tom watched him for a few seconds. "We both know she wouldn't have been interested in that hologram anyway, unless he was a damn sight taller and had a tattoo over his left eye."

The corner of Chakotay's mouth twitched, and he could feel his face heating up as he met those irritatingly discerning eyes again.

Paris went on. "People are talking this way, just because of the novelty of seeing her with a man other than you, by her side. That's all. That's what's fuelled all the gossip. So, what are you going to do about that?"

Chakotay sighed.

Tom just wasn't going to drop it. "Are you just going to leave her to try and find support and friendship from that mass of photons, when you're here miserable without her?"

Chakotay was done here. "You don't know what you're talking about, Tom."

"No, you're right, I don't, because you won't tell me, or B'Elanna, or Mike, any of your friends. But what I do know is that whatever the problem you two have, you beating the shit out of a punch bag and the Captain talking to herself on the holodeck isn't going to solve it."

Paris had overstepped the mark by a mile or two by now and Chakotay knew he should probably react, but instead he just sighed. Because Tom was right. "No, it isn't. And thank you, for your concern."

Paris rolled his eyes. "You sound like a politician, Chakotay."

"I can't talk to you about this. That's part of the problem here for me."

"So she doesn't want anyone to know? That you're together?" Chakotay held his gaze, but said nothing. "Well is that so bad? Does it matter that much? If that's what she needs...I mean, anyone can see why she'd find it hard. Having people talk about what you and her were up to every time the ready room door closed? Knowing her, I'm guessing she'd worry that the crew might think she'd lose her drive to get us home, now that she's found happiness here... There's a lot that you can see she'd worry about."

It seemed he _still_ wasn't done.

"You and I know that none of that matters, and people would most likely just want her to be happy, but that isn't the point, is it? If she thinks that's what'll happen, then that's bound to make her want to keep it secret. So, why can't you live with that? It's not like you're exactly Mr. Open-and-Sharing with the crew about your personal life is it."

Chakotay studied the carpet and cursed the fact he couldn't go against Kathryn's express wishes and actually talk to Tom. At this point, he really could use a sounding board himself, for just how to go about getting her to let go of the Equinox disaster and let him back in. Paris was a lot of things, but he was no fool when it came to reading people, and he knew Kathryn. He could actually be damned useful here. _Blasted mess._

Chakotay looked up and offered all he could. "I'm sorry, Tom. I really can't talk to you about this. It'd make things worse right now, if I did. Worse for me. You'll just have to take my word for it."

"OK. I'll just butt out then, but I couldn't leave you in any doubt about that hologram."

"And I'm grateful. Thank you."

* * *

In the days that followed, Chakotay wondered if B'Elanna might have been right about one thing, because every time he looked up from his dinner, he seemed to find the shy smile of Marla Gilmore somewhere nearby and aimed at him. Pleasant sort of woman and all that, but she was starting to make him feel... shifty.

He forcefully stamped out any of the gossip he overheard about the Captain's leisure time. Possibly because people thought he had finally given up pursuing her, they were a little less guarded around him in their remarks, and some of the 'jokes' he overheard incensed him.

When the Fair Haven programme suffered problems and much of it was lost during another all-consuming crisis, he wasn't sorry. He made no apology for his view that the crew would do better to forge relationships in the real world.


	9. Chapter 9

A few weeks later, at the beginning of the seventh year of their journey, Kathryn devised a plan to infiltrate the Borg collective that involved allowing herself to be assimilated.

It was a step too far for Chakotay.

He presented her with three further options, none of which involved her being part of the away team. They debated his suggestions in the ready room for two hours, but at the end of it, she was unmoved. He conceded. When they emerged afterwards, he was sure there wasn't a soul on the bridge who didn't know exactly what he'd been trying to do in there.

But if she thought he was just going to let her do this, without spending at least those hours that were left with him, then she didn't know him as well as she thought she did.

On the eve of the mission, he waited until 23.05, then he took his life in his hands, let himself into her quarters and climbed into bed with her, refusing to entertain the possibility she'd send him away. She didn't.

She helped pull his t-shirt up and over his head and then she husked into his ear, "Did you get lost on the way to your bedroom, Commander?"

"Not exactly, Captain. I was looking for something and I thought I might find it in here."

Then, he held himself over her, gently pinned her arms above her head on the pillow, sealed his mouth over hers and made love to her like there was no tomorrow.

Being with her all through that night soothed his soul a little, and he hoped it helped her find the strength she needed to go through with her ludicrously dangerous plan. It seemed to take everything she had to tear herself away from his embrace at 06.00 the following morning.

* * *

Before she left, she took his hand on the bridge in front of everyone.

He saw her resolve waver momentarily and he wondered for a split second if he should stop her, if she _wanted_ him to stop her; but he let her go. Part of him understood that she needed to do this. Perhaps she believed reaching this level of devotion to duty would begin to atone for some of what she was still beating herself up about after the Equinox? Even though it was months ago now, she'd said nothing to make him believe she'd really moved past it yet.

* * *

After hours of chaos and destruction, she returned, weak but triumphant. Every instinct told him to go to her the minute they'd beamed her back, but he was in command and so he did his duty.

He sent Tom down to see B'Elanna, and was surprised when Paris returned to the bridge after a relatively short time. As it wasn't long before the end of the shift, Chakotay had presumed Paris wouldn't come back up. The pilot fielded a query from Harry Kim, who must have had the same thought as Chakotay.

"She's totally exhausted, so I've left her to sleep a while. I'll go back and see her later." Tom replied. As he turned away from Harry to seat himself back at the helm, he caught Chakotay's eye and raised his eyebrow a fraction and sent a pointed look towards the turbo lift.

Chakotay stood immediately, "You have the bridge, Tom."

* * *

A little over twenty-four hours later, Chakotay returned to sickbay again, and persuaded the Doctor to discharge the Captain to her quarters.

Despite her protests, Chakotay gathered her up into his arms and carried her all the way.

When they were settled on her bed, he told her he was done hiding.

He knew she was in a weakened state, and he probably shouldn't be issuing ultimatums at a time like this, but he'd reached his limit and that was that. It had been too hard. Something in him had snapped when he'd walked into sickbay the day before, and seen her on that biobed.

He cradled her body in his arms and then she told him that she was sorry.

She wept silently and told him she'd been terrified that the mission would succeed, but that she wouldn't make it back. She said she was sorry for how hard it'd been recently, that _she'd_ made things so hard. She asked if he could ever forgive her, for using things he'd told her against him the way she had when they'd argued. He kissed her tears away and told her he'd forgiven her _months_ ago!

She locked eyes with him and said that she was sure, now, that she wanted them to be together. And if he needed them to be open about their involvement, then open was what they would be.

* * *

Two days later, as they stepped off the turbo lift, after their public breakfast in the mess hall, Chakotay placed his hand on the small of her back and addressed her none too quietly.

"B'Elanna tells me Tom has a new programme of an authentic, little Venetian restaurant that's well worth a visit, fancy giving it a try and having dinner with me this evening?"

He could have sworn there was almost a collective groan from the bridge crew as they despaired of him, and in his peripheral vision, he couldn't help but catch the look that passed between Harry Kim at opps and Ayala who was at tactical. Mike's grimace said far more than he ever did, and Harry was thinking so loud, he could almost hear him. _Does the man never give up?_

A small, one-sided smile lifted the corner of Kathryn's mouth. "It's not enough that I braved Neelix's fish-substitute breakfast with you this morning?"

"I just thought you might welcome a little diversion, from your evenings alone with your novel."

"You know, that's a lovely idea, Commander, you've got yourself a date, come by my quarters at 19.00."

He wished he could've turned round to see Harry's jaw drop to the deck, but he knew it wouldn't really do.

* * *

As they entered the little restaurant that evening, out of uniform of course, they nodded acknowledgement to other crewmembers and seated themselves at a table in a secluded corner. Chakotay found it hard to concentrate on the food. Absurd though it might seem after several years of being with this woman, the evening felt like a first date.

As she drained the last of the wine from her glass, his hand caressed her thigh beneath the table. Well, like a second date perhaps... They rushed the rest of the dinner somewhat.

* * *

A few days after that, he came off duty to find her stripped to her tank top, sweating, as she prised from its moulded fittings, a section of the bulkhead separating their quarters. She'd rarely looked so desirable to him as she did at that moment, and it was all he could do not to hoist her up to straddle him and talk her into bulkhead-sex right there. He snapped out if his reverie when she spoke.

She said it was uncaptain-like to skulk down corridors, so they needed a door. He laughed and kissed her hungrily until she pulled back, and then he sent her off to her bathtub while he finished the job.

He commed Ayala, probably the only man on the ship he could rely on not to ask any questions. His friend transported a door panel to Chakotay's quarters, together with the proper parts and tools needed to fit it and then he exercised some of his latent skills and promptly erased the transporter log. Even though she'd said she was OK with being open about their relationship, Chakotay didn't imagine Kathryn wanted to explain a modification like this to Tuvok yet, anymore than he did.

In the back of his mind, Chakotay wondered vaguely about where Mike had got the door from without arousing suspicion? He suspected Ayala's bathroom might now be kind of open plan…

* * *

Three weeks later, Tom and B'Elanna got married.

At the party after the ceremony, Chakotay dipped his head beneath the searchlight of Marla Gilmore's smile and reached for Kathryn's hand. He led her out to join the other couples on the dance floor.

He held her in an unambiguously intimate and sensual way, circling her waist with one arm to pull her flush against him and allowing his lips to graze her forehead. By the end of that one dance anyone who hadn't already noticed the gradually increasing off-duty intimacy between the command team, during the preceding two or three weeks, couldn't possibly be unaware of it any longer.

His heart raced, as he suddenly worried whether she was really ready to face the consequences of what he'd just done, but she didn't pull back. She looked directly into his eyes and smiled her rare, radiant, full smile.

They left the party together. Paris watched them with a big grin on his face and nudged B'Elanna who just muttered,

"Finally."

* * *

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

As the weeks went past, Kathryn and Chakotay got used to sharing their recently connected quarters. For ease of movement, Ayala's door was locked on open much of the time.

After a few weeks, it became clear that Chakotay's bedroom had become theirs and Kathryn's remained her own. She used hers as a dressing room and as a retreat for those nights, when she felt the need for the solitude and the space of her own bed. He didn't mind the odd night alone, especially if he was so tired he knew he might possibly snore. If he was alone, he could sprawl on his back and snore in peace, rather than have those small hands poking him in the night until he rolled onto his side.

Living in close quarters all the time meant they discovered more about each other.

There was one thing he'd noticed before, but had never mentioned to her. When she was complaining one morning about him thrashing about in his sleep the night before, he decided it was time to share. He said at least he didn't _talk_ in his sleep. That got her attention. He suspected she thought he was exaggerating or making it up, but actually, everything he said was true.

Sometimes she muttered random half-sentences, often addressed to Seven or to her sister, Phoebe. Other times she barked fragments of orders that caused him to sit bolt upright, until he realised where he was and that she was sound asleep.

The counter attack was instant. She claimed that she had made an alarming discovery about him. Now that they were free to socialise openly and spend entire evenings together, she told him she'd never known a man with so little tolerance for real alcohol. She said that after only two glasses of wine, his notoriously twisted sense of humour became completely indefensible. She told him that she realised now why B'Elanna had bundled him off to his quarters in the past, on the few occasions when he'd been drinking.

She added that if they ever did make it back and he wasn't incarcerated, she would need to keep an eye on him at cocktail parties with Starfleet brass, or he'd get himself blasted back down to ensign in the time it takes to order a vintage scotch.

* * *

A few weeks later, the ship was shattered into 37 different time frames and Chakotay found himself tasked with trying to put it back together.

He did so, eventually, with the help of Captain Janeway; a Captain Janeway from the earliest time frame he came across. Voyager was still in the Alpha Quadrant, just about to set off and follow his ship into the Badlands.

Once it was all done and dusted and all he had to do was initiate a warp pulse in engineering, she took him aside to ask him something.

He watched this delightful, Alpha Quadrant Kathryn formulate her question, rather coyly, it had to be said.

"May I ask you one last question?"

"Will I have to break the Temporal Prime Directive to answer it?"

"Maybe, just a little. For two people who started off as enemies it seems we get to know each other pretty well, so I was wondering, just how close do we get?"

He saw uncertainty and anticipation in those familiar eyes, and he was tempted to do something he shouldn't. Because obviously, it wouldn't count as cheating on Kathryn if he were to kiss her younger self… Just in time, his better judgment kicked in, as he remembered just how devoted she was to her fiancé at this point.

So, he leant in, far closer than propriety really allowed, his lips almost brushing her ear. "Let's just say, when you're a soldier _and_ a philosopher, some barriers are there to be crossed," and pressed one feather-light kiss to that spot half way down her pale neck that made his Kathryn shiver. This one did too.

He held his breath as he waited for a reaction: a slap or something? Perhaps she might knee him? She'd always been pretty hot on self-defence. But she just drew back, unflustered, looked straight into his eyes with a smile in her own, and offered him her hand.

"Well, I guess I'll be seeing more of you in the future then."

He couldn't help himself - his eyes danced as he shook her hand and replied, "Oh yes, a whole lot more."

* * *

xxx

* * *

Then what should have been a straightforward diplomatic reception turned into an ambush and Kathryn and Tuvok were seriously injured.

"_Sickbay to the Bridge._"

"Chakotay here. Doctor, have you got them?"

"_Yes, Commander, but I won't lie, they're both in a bad way. I'll let you know as soon as I have news._"

"Understood, Chakotay out."

He stared ahead at the view screen.

* * *

Chakotay entered sickbay.

Tuvok was lying motionless on the biobed closest to the door, and Kathryn was lying on the next one. The Doctor was leaning over her and turned as he heard Chakotay enter.

"Report, Doctor."

"They're both stable and recovering now, Commander. I sedated Mr. Tuvok to allow me to regenerate his shattered femur, but it will be safe to revive him shortly.

"And the Captain?"

Chakotay had moved to stand next to the Doctor. The relief he felt at seeing her there was powerful. He allowed it to wash over him and he felt something loosen inside, some spring that had been wound tight for the past four hours, ever since they lost contact with her away team. Her eyes were closed and she looked peaceful, as if she were enjoying a much-needed, enforced rest. It was evident the Doctor must have already finished dermal regeneration. Both she and Tuvok bore no visible signs of the trauma, although Tuvok's leg was still under a surgical arch, as was Kathryn's abdomen.

"I had to sedate her too, as there were…. additional complications. Please accompany me into the office, Commander, there is something I need to make you aware of."

Chakotay followed him in, the spring starting to wind again.

The Doctor pulled up his scans of Tuvok's leg on the monitor in the office. "When the weapon blast hit them, Mr. Tuvok had placed himself directly in front of the Captain - a move which undoubtedly saved her life - and the top of his right femur took the brunt of the blast. As you can see here, it shattered this side of his bone and a fragment passed through his leg," he brought up an image of Kathryn's body now, "and lacerated the Captain's abdomen, as she was directly behind him. How on earth he managed to drag her to the transport enhancers with this sort of injury, is really anyone's guess."

"Go on, Doctor."

"Indeed, so…. the residual blast from the weapon and this bone fragment pierced several of her vital organs and caused massive internal bleeding and considerable blood loss. Once she was transported here, I was able to stabilise her within minutes, but in the course of my initial scans I detected… there's no easy way to say this, Commander, so… I detected a foetal heart beat."

The Doctor paused, presumably to allow Chakotay time to process what he'd been told. Chakotay didn't want time, he wanted the rest of the information. "Please go on, Doctor."

"She was in the process of miscarrying the foetus, due to the massive internal trauma. I was able to tell her that much, but there wasn't time to explain the options. She said 'Get Chakotay' just before she lost consciousness, and I'm interpreting that as consent to inform you of the situation."

The physician paused. "I was able to extract the foetus with a foetal transport, and I placed it in stasis."

Chakotay felt the floor move.

"Would you like to sit down, Commander?"

He leaned forward, putting his hands onto the desk to steady himself. "No, go on, I need you to tell…"

"Of course, yes. I had to make a decision. The Captain was unconscious and you were in command in the middle of the battle - I could hardly call up to the bridge to ask you.."

The Doctor looked stricken, clearly reliving the dilemma in the telling of it, but pressed on. "I had to make the decision I felt the Captain would be most likely to make herself, had she had the time to consider all the implications of this situation, and I'm presuming she wasn't..…?"

"No, she wasn't aware of it before. I. ... We weren't aware… How…?"

Despite Chakotay's lack of eloquence, the Doctor seemed able to anticipate the direction of his question. "It was a side effect of the partial assimilation she underwent several months ago. The partial assimilation neutralised any substances in her body that weren't naturally produced. The Captain was at risk of conceiving until her next routine booster, which wasn't until fourteen days after her return to the ship. I was aware of this, Commander, and I put it in my report at the time, but, as I wasn't aware at that time of your…situation with the Captain, I hadn't highlighted the information, and I can only presume she didn't read all the detail in my report. It was several pages long." He paused for a moment. "Lieutenant Torres had already stopped her booster programme some months before, so it wasn't relevant information in her case. I can only apologise. I had wrongly presumed it wouldn't be relevant to the Captain's...circumstances, and so I didn't contact her when she failed to appear for an immediate booster, I simply presumed she was content to wait for her next routine one, given how she likes to avoid sickbay."

Chakotay realised the Doctor was waiting for him to respond. "I see. And now, is she out of danger?"

"Yes, she will make a full recovery. The surgery was extensive, but I have repaired all the injuries to her internal organs and there will be no permanent damage. She just needs to rest now."

"You're certain? There was no permanent damage…. at all?"

"Yes, I assure you, Commander, I would only say that if I was one hundred per cent certain. Once she's rested and had time to consider her options, if she wished to proceed, there is absolutely no medical reason why the foetus couldn't be re-implanted. And I should add that it is perfectly healthy. I obviously performed the routine scans before placing it in stasis."

Chakotay looked away and took a deep breath before addressing the Doctor again, his voice controlled and his tone firm. "I'm sure she will come to discuss this with you, when she's ready."

"Of course, Commander. And I hope you don't…."

"You made the only decision you could, Doctor, and I'm sure the Captain will thank you herself when she's recovered."

"Thank you, Commander. I'm so sorry things have turned out this way. But were it not for Mr Tuvok's swift actions, both the Captain and the foetus would have died instantly. And please let me apologise again for not highlighting the information regarding the side effects of the partial assimil.."

"That's not necessary, Doctor...I'd like to see her. Can you wake her?"

"Yes, of course." He paused and seemed to choose his next words carefully. "Would you like to tell her yourself, or would you like me to?"

"No. I mean, no, thank you, Doctor. I'll tell her."

"Very well. I'll continue monitoring Mr. Tuvok from in here, or I can deactivate myself..."

Chakotay had walked out before the Doctor had finished his sentence.

* * *

They discussed the choices and Kathryn decided to keep the foetus in stasis. For now.

Chakotay understood why she'd arrived at that decision and wasn't surprised. The fact of the removal had already stacked the odds in favour of that outcome. To re-implant now would have to be an active choice. A frightening choice.

Exactly what Chakotay thought about them having a child, of her having his child, _now_, he didn't know. He just hadn't thought that far into their future together yet. He had been content just to have her, to finally have her open commitment and her open affection. That had been enough for him in the present.

What he _felt_ about it, was quite another matter. When the Doctor had said there was a foetus, he had felt everything all at once. He struggled with the whole concept of stasis. For him, the child belonged here, in the present with them. To put it off for a future no one could guarantee was madness. He felt like he was suddenly being asked to deal with time travel. The room had started to spin.

Kathryn had never mentioned wanting children with him and he hadn't asked her. Surprising though that might have been in a 'normal' relationship between childless individuals of their respective ages, given where they were, what their lives consisted of and what their responsibilities were, it was less surprising. He loved the idea of raising a family and having a stable planet-side life. It was simply that years ago he had given up thinking of himself as someone for whom that sort of life was ever likely to be a possibility. Nothing that had happened since being thrown into the Delta Quadrant had led him to believe anything had changed in that respect.

If they had been together longer, officially together, rather than just the two and a half months it had been since Kathryn had agreed to go public, perhaps he might have had the time to start thinking more about the future. Their daily lives were unpredictable and incredibly demanding, and for years he'd been living with her, knowing that she was still only on the very edge of commitment to the idea of a relationship with him, let alone anything more.

He didn't find it difficult to understand the myriad of reasons that had swayed her thinking when she gave the Doctor her instructions to continue with stasis for the time being. He instinctively knew that despite the validity of all those reasons, how they both felt about the situation was quite different.

Kathryn was struggling with her decision. That much he was sure of. She wasn't herself. He thought she seemed brittle, too quiet.

It was the sort of experience that she wouldn't be able to contain and control. He could see it was seeping into her thoughts and colouring her experiences. It wasn't something she could stop with sheer will power. Everything he knew about her told him this would be something she would find it very hard to adjust to. And adjust to it she would have to.

* * *

Two weeks later, B'Elanna discovered she was pregnant. When she almost fainted one day in engineering, Icheb scanned her and discovered two life signs. Once it had been explained to him that she wasn't infested with parasitic life forms, the word spread.

Chakotay was delighted for Tom and B'Elanna, but it was obviously impossible not to think about his and Kathryn's situation and he found himself fighting melancholy. He pushed his own feelings to the bottom of his heart and went to congratulate them.

Initially, Kathryn coped well. But as the days went by, it became clear that whenever anyone mentioned B'Elanna's pregnancy, Kathryn was unable to engage. It was just too much, too soon.

* * *

They lay together late one night and he decided it was time to just say it.

"You know, if you change your mind, we'll find a way."

She turned into him and rested her chin on his chest. She studied his face for what seemed like the longest time before she spoke. "You've never asked me, and the Doctor said you didn't ask him either."

"Asked what?"

"You know what."

Now it was Chakotay who paused before he answered her. "It would've made it harder."

"But isn't it hard now, that I know, and the Doctor knows, and you don't?"

"Is that hard for you?"

"Yes. I feel guilty. Like I have a secret from you."

"It's not like that, Kathryn. I don't feel like that about it." He pulled her closer.

Her eyes were still on him. "Well convince me. Because it's too hard at the moment. Convince me you're not angry with me, for all of it, for asking to see, for knowing what you don't want to."

"I'm not angry. Not with you, for anything. I didn't want to see the holographic projections, because I don't want to make a child in my mind out of this, a child that we may never meet. That wouldn't help me live with our situation. And anyway, the extrapolations aren't real, they're only an approximation."

"I know."

"People deal with things differently, Kathryn."

Her right hand came up and she threaded her fingers into his hair, while her other hand still rested on his chest. She gently pressed into his scalp in small, rhythmical circles for a while. She seemed lost in thought. He closed his eyes. Eventually, she spoke again and he half-opened his eyes to watch her face.

"What if I decided to go through with the pregnancy now, do you really think we'd cope?" He suppressed a sigh. This was going to be something she would find it hard to allow herself to believe. He suspected they would have this conversation over and over.

"Yes. I'm sure."

"Just like that?"

"Yes, just like that. Why is that so hard to accept?"

"How can you be so certain? How could we raise a child and run a starship? Head up this community still?"

"We'd find a way, we'd adapt. We could be out here for the rest of our lives, and we realised years ago that in the future, the crew would eventually pair off and start having children. Well, maybe this is the beginning of that future...now? And anyway, people have been combining child-care responsibilities and work lives for centuries. You'd be quite capable. _We'd_ be quite capable. I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard, because it would, but it wouldn't be impossible. We have help, Kathryn! When you're ready, we could do it, if that's what you want."

He stroked her back through her nightgown and he felt her relax a little more against him.

Then her voice came again. "I love you."

"Good."

She dipped her head down and wiped her tears into his t-shirt. He pressed a kiss into her hair and his low, rich tones sounded once more.

"When the time comes, if you're sure, we'll go ahead with the re-implantation. And we'll be spectacularly good parents." She laid her cheek down on his chest and closed her eyes. He closed his too and pulled her a little further across his side.

"Did I mention that I love you?" she said into his t-shirt.

"I don't recall. Perhaps you should say it again?"

"I love you."

* * *

Things got easier.

The topics of the conversations Kathryn initiated with him over the next few days made Chakotay believe that she was really beginning to consider new possibilities for the future. He even dared to hope that she was winning in her battle to suppress her self-destructive instinct to martyr herself, and sacrifice her own happiness for the good of the ship. Perhaps she might even start to question one day whether there was, ever had been, a link there?

In relation to the running of the ship, he could see that she was laying the foundations for more detailed planning, tailored to the unique future that they were all facing. She tabled discussions with the senior staff that entertained the possibility that it might take decades to reach Earth. Really entertained it in practical terms.

It no longer felt like an act of heresy on Voyager to start to plan for a life on the ship, a life on the journey.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Half way through the seventh year of their journey, as they did their best to meet all the challenges presented by their lives as a co-habiting command team, crossing one of the most unpredictable and lawless regions of space in human experience, it all fell apart.

After a great deal of reflection, and a lot of circular and frequently interrupted conversations, Kathryn and Chakotay had decided to go ahead with the re-implantation of the foetus the Doctor had placed in stasis. Kathryn had suggested they wait until after the away mission they had just scheduled, so Chakotay could be with her for the procedure.

When Chakotay and his away team returned to the rendezvous co-ordinates, Voyager wasn't there.

When they eventually tracked the ship down, they found no one aboard but the Doctor. It was a further three weeks, before they finally located the crew, on an innocuous looking planet called Quarra. They had no memory of their lives on Voyager.

Kathryn had a monotonous job in a reactor plant and had moved in with a man she had met on her first day at work there, a few weeks earlier.

* * *

Chakotay understood that the crew had been victims of sophisticated memory manipulation.

He understood intellectually that Kathryn had not been herself, since her memories of her life history, and consequently her sense of self, had been significantly altered. He was strong man, with considerable personal reserves he could call upon, but the experience of finding the woman he loved living happily with another man felled him.

He tried and failed to conceal his feelings. He cursed himself for having insisted, three months earlier, that he and Kathryn reveal their relationship to the crew. Now, they would be obliged to live out this hell in public.

After her memory had been restored, he forced himself to go to sickbay, to walk with her back to her quarters. At first, she wouldn't look him in the eye and then, when they were behind closed doors and she finally did, she wept and wept. She seemed so unlike herself he actually began to worry that some kind of permanent damage had been done to her mind, to her personality. She told him she was sorry. So sorry. She said she felt different, off-balance, guilty, deeply disturbed by what had happened. Then she said she didn't want to talk about it anymore; she just wanted to forget the whole, miserable business. Then she said she was sorry again. And again. He reassured her he understood what had happened, and she had nothing to apologise for. He knew she wasn't hearing him.

Chakotay sighed. Letting go of guilt wasn't exactly her strong point.

* * *

Weeks went by, and rather than move on together, they drifted further apart. Despite weeks of 'normality' back on the ship, all she would say was that she still didn't feel like herself. She made it abundantly clear she couldn't face intimacy; she bristled every time he came near her. When she wasn't on duty, she told him she just wanted to sleep, in her own bedroom. Occasionally, late at night he would wake to find her sliding silently under the covers with him, to sleep in his warmth, just so he would hold her. He told himself that was something at least.

Every time he tried to talk to her, she said she was fine, and she just needed more time. He told her she wasn't fine, and if she didn't want to talk to him, then maybe she should talk to someone else. That comment earned him a look he didn't want to see again, so he stopped saying it. No one but Kathryn had ever been able to make him feel that foolish. Probably because no one else's opinion had ever mattered as much.

He sought solace and answers in a vision quest, but his father was illusive this time. Chakotay's spirit guide said that he shouldn't retreat from the inner depths and the darkest recesses of the enemy. He sighed and wished that for once she might say something a bit more practical, and a bit less enigmatic. He had no idea how to apply that particular piece of wisdom to his current situation.

He avoided socialising with the rest of the crew for the first two weeks that Kathryn was back. It wasn't really intentional. He usually spent some of his off-duty time with Mike, B'Elanna and Tom, and occasionally with the former members of his crew if anyone arranged a get-together. Invitations to socialise with all these people still came his way, but he just found he had no desire to accept them. He spent too long boxing in the holodeck and too long reading in his quarters. That's what they felt like again; his. Kathryn had shut Ayala's door.

Then, at the end of the second week, he admitted to himself that he was spending time in his quarters because he was waiting for her to come through the door. And it was slowly driving him crazy, so he went out.

On the calm days, between their regular ship-wide crises provoked by aliens or unfamiliar stellar phenomena, during his off-duty hours Chakotay became a regular in Sandrine's. He played more pool with Ayala and Paris than he had in years. He knew Mike wouldn't ask him about anything, unless he first volunteered information. Paris was another matter. At first, Tom had the good sense not to try and broach the subject of Chakotay's relationship with Kathryn, so he was able to find some sort of relaxation there. As the days turned into weeks however, Chakotay began to feel like Tom was watching him, and building up to saying something, so he started to avoid him.

B'Elanna was less tactful. After Chakotay had started to avoid Tom, she came in one night when Ayala and Chakotay were playing pool, and she ambushed him when he went to the bar. She refused to let him change the subject. She told him people were saying it was obvious the short-lived romance between their commanding officers had burned itself out. He snorted into his drink and said they should mind their own fucking business. She took the drink away from him and dragged him back to her and Tom's quarters for coffee.

Once inside his own quarters, he lay on his back on his bed, his mind blank. His self-respect prevented him getting drunk in front of the crew, but it was lucky Kathryn was still using up his replicator rations for coffee, because at that moment, he might actually have been tempted to replicate some liquor.

* * *

A month later, Chakotay was stranded on a primitive planet with Seven for three days.

Seven seemed to develop a marked interest in him; it was so blatant, that even he noticed.

On their return to the ship, she continued to seek him out at meal times each day, and attempted to engage him in conversation on a wide range of topics. Whenever he had business in astrometrics, she would keep him talking for minutes on end, enquiring about his duties; his interests; his spiritual beliefs; the cultural heritage of his tribe; their decision to move off-world. The list of things she wished to be informed about seemed quite without end. He was incredulous. She'd never shown the slightest inclination to get to know him before. He felt vaguely as if he was being interviewed, for a job he hadn't applied for.

He answered her questions, slightly bemused. He was completely preoccupied with trying to figure out how to get through to Kathryn, however, so there wasn't much space in his head to worry about what Seven's motives might be.

* * *

Seven requested an audience with the Captain.

Seven stated that she been informed by several members of the crew, that the Captain and the Commander were no longer romantically involved. Now that the Captain was no longer engaged in a liaison with him, Seven wished to know if it would be acceptable to the Captain, for her to approach him herself with a proposal.

She explained that following extensive research, she was ready to explore her sexuality, and had selected the Commander as an appropriate first partner.

She thanked the Captain for her guidance and her support for the last three years, and told her that one of her reasons for selecting the Commander was that the Captain clearly held him in high regard, and Seven trusted her judgment. She added that she would not want to cause the Captain any emotional discomfort, so she would not proceed, unless the Captain's feelings would not be affected by the Commander becoming intimately involved with another crew member. She also wished to know if the Captain considered her choice to be a wise one.

She enquired as to how long it was customary to wait, before approaching someone who had just ended a relationship elsewhere. She said she did not wish to offend the Commander's sensibilities, by suggesting an intimate relationship, if it would be considered too soon. She needed to know what the conventions dictated. It had not been possible to ascertain this information from the data base. Would three months be sufficient?

Stunned by this speech, Kathryn replied that it would be inappropriate for her to discuss with Seven, the status of her relationship with the Commander.

Seven regarded her calmly for a moment, and then thanked her. She said that such a response provided her with enough information from which to proceed. She would review the results generated by her initial search parameters. Then she left.

Kathryn went into the bathroom and promptly threw up.

Two days later on the bridge, Kathryn overheard Tom Paris quizzing a squirming Harry Kim about his first date with Seven.

* * *

The following day, Chakotay had just turned the bridge over to Tuvok at the end of his shift, and was in the turbo lift on his way to deck three, when his communicator chirped.

"_Sickbay to Commander Chakotay_."

"Chakotay here."

"_Can you come down here immediately please, Commander, I've got a…. situation._"

"Acknowledged. What sort of a situation, Doctor?"

"_I'd rather tell you in person, Commander. Please hurry_."

"On my way."

The doors of sickbay opened, to reveal the Doctor immediately in his path. He ushered Chakotay to the far side of the room, and spoke in hushed tones. "Commander, I'm glad you're here."

"What have you got, Doctor?"

"See for yourself."

The Doctor nodded towards his office and Chakotay looked across to see the back of Kathryn's head. She was sitting at the Doctor's desk, facing his monitor. Chakotay looked back to the Doctor for an explanation.

"She won't let me in. She's sealed the door. When I attempted to bypass her command codes with my medical override, she threatened to decompile my programme. She hasn't threatened me with that in years, she's really not herself, Commander."

"How long has she been here?"

"About half an hour."

"What did she come in for?"

The Doctor looked uncomfortable. "She asked to see the extrapolated holographic projection again. It's hard to see the monitor with her in front of it like that, but I believe she was viewing the projections from birth to age three again."

"I see."

"I'm sorry, Commander, I realise this is difficult for you. If I'd suspected this would happen, I wouldn't have allowed her to view them, but she appeared quite composed, until she locked me out. It's not difficult to see what's going on here, it's clearly some sort of delayed reaction to assimilation, the dilemma around the unexpected pregnancy and her experiences on Quarra, but knowing all that doesn't mean I can help her, unless she agrees to talk to me. Which we both know is unlikely."

"Thank you, Doctor, I'll deal with this."

"Of course. Computer, deactivate EMH and set for reactivation in one hour."

The Doctor shimmered out of existence.

Chakotay walked up to the Doctor's office and tapped gently on the glass. Kathryn didn't react. He tapped again and said her name. She turned her head and took him in. She stared blankly at first, and then seemed to make sense of what his being there meant.

"Open the door, Kathryn."

* * *

Once they were back in her quarters, she announced quietly that she was tired and just wanted to sleep, so she was going to bed. He knew that was his cue for dismissal, but he'd had enough of being excluded. It seemed to him like she'd had enough sleep recently to make up for more than twenty years of her insomnia, and all this time on her own she thought she needed just wasn't doing her any good. So left her and returned to his quarters. He gave her enough time to complete her night-time routines, did his own, then opened Ayala's door and went into her bedroom.

It was dark and she was already in bed, curled on her side, facing away from where he stood. He climbed in next to her and pulled her against him. She turned in his embrace, slid her leg between his and slotted herself into his body, almost climbing on top of him. Her small body was cool against his skin, her hands and feet were ice. After a while he could feel her warming up as she absorbed some of his body heat. It was so good just to hold her again. Eventually she spoke.

"Do you want to see the projection yet?" He looked down at her, she was looking straight ahead into the darkness, eyes wide open.

"Do you need me to see it? Would it help?"

"I don't know." Her voice cracked, and the sound pulled his heart open a little.

"Don't you think it might be easier if you didn't view it again? Until you're ready?" He suggested gently.

She didn't reply, but just buried deeper into his warmth. He tried to keep the depths of the exasperation he felt out of his voice, as he spoke softly to her again. "We need to move on, Kathryn. We can get past what happened on that planet, we can find a way together if we talk about it, but you need to let us move on. Please." This time, after only a few of seconds silence she whispered her reply.

"Okay."

"Then, you won't need to look at the projection, we'll get back to where we were, and then, one day, not too long after that, you can look at the real thing."

He watched as her eyes shut and he pulled her closer and felt her body shudder. As he allowed his own eyes to close, he prayed that when she was done weeping she would let him in; prayed that she would find her way back to him and to her life on the ship.

* * *

A few weeks later, as they neared the end of the seventh year of their journey, Admiral Janeway arrived from the future and threw them all into confusion yet again.

When Kathryn remained unconvinced by the course of action put forward, the Admiral decided to share enough of the future she came from, to ensure her plan would be adopted. Her tactics were ruthless.

She stood rigid in the corridor, and hit Kathryn relentlessly with the details of trauma after trauma, reciting a catalogue of death and tragedy from her past. She knew that Kathryn would do everything within her power to prevent this past from becoming the future for herself and for her crew.

In three years time, on an away mission, Seven of Nine would be injured. She would make it back to the ship, but would die in the arms of her husband, Harry Kim. Harry would never recover from this loss.

Between that day and the day she got Voyager home, she would lose twenty-nine crewmembers.

Then there was Tuvok, he was suffering from a degenerative neurological disease he hadn't told her about, a cure for which existed in the Alpha Quadrant. Without this cure he would go slowly insane.

And what of her own life?

In a few months time, she and Chakotay would decide to make the most of what happiness they could grasp and would get married. She would choose to go ahead with re-implantation of the foetus and she would have a child.

Two years after that, in a catastrophic encounter with the Fen Domar, she would send her husband on an away mission from which he would not return.

They would never find his body.

Another year down the line, they would encounter a species who had never seen children.

The Admiral refused to share with Kathryn what would happen, but she stressed that it would traumatise the whole crew and would be something she, B'Elanna, Tom, Sam Wildman, six other crewmembers would never recover from.

All she would add, was that in the immediate aftermath, there would be one unsuccessful suicide attempt and one member of the crew would succeed in taking their own life.

Then the Admiral slipped her hand inside her jacket, pulled out a small locket and opened it.

Kathryn stood bewitched by the single image it held.

They both knew the Admiral had already won.

Kathryn worked late into the night with the Admiral. They resolved to devise a plan that would allow them to have their cake and eat it. They would travel through the transwarp hub to the Alpha Quadrant, and collapse it from within leaving only destruction in their wake.

And within hours, that was exactly what they had done.


	12. Chapter 12

AN: This started as a short epilogue, but seems to have grown into a full, final chapter. Thank you very much to everyone who has reviewed this story here or on VAMB. I really appreciate you taking the time to comment.

* * *

xxx Chapter 12 xxx

The Admiral's appearance and her recital of the catastrophic events of her own timeline had an immediate effect on Kathryn.

In the preceding weeks, Chakotay had been relieved and deeply grateful to see that Kathryn had been slowly working her way back to reclaiming her life on the ship. The Admiral's arrival appeared to have dramatically speeded up that process. Kathryn seemed to have been so fundamentally shaken, that within hours she had snapped into action.

Chakotay had looked long and hard at Admiral Janeway and struggled to recognise anything in her of the woman he knew and loved. Kathryn had been on the wrong side of the Temporal Prime Directive more than once it was true, but it was still a real stretch of the imagination to believe she would ever decide she had the right to wipe out twenty-six years of history in her timeline. It was just wasn't like her... to Chakotay it seemed more than a little presumptuous, self-important. He just couldn't imagine Kathryn ever doing that. He could only conclude that the Admiral's life must have been traumatic in the extreme, to effect such radical changes in her outlook.

Kathryn repeated word for word to Chakotay the Admiral's description of the events that would come to pass if they chose to do nothing and just continued on their course. He needed no more persuading than she had done. Neither of them could countenance such a future, let alone lead their crew into it.

When Kathryn presented their riskiest plan to date to the senior staff, she was at her best. One hundred per cent Janeway determination. Failure was not an option; they would succeed. Unspoken between the command team was the understanding that even if to attempt this was borderline madness, they would rather die trying than do nothing. Chakotay knew in his bones that if the plan succeeded, an added bonus would be that Kathryn would be herself again. If it didn't, they'd all be dead anyway, so what the hell…

He didn't need to be a psychiatrist to know that for months Kathryn had been suffering from some sort of debilitating depression. Given the events of the last year of Kathryn's life, Naomi Wildman could have made the diagnosis.

As he watched Kathryn going through the details of the plan with Tuvok on the other side of the conference room, Chakotay found his mind wandering back to the legends his father used to tell about how their ancestors treated those inflicted with melancholy. He and his sister had been entertained by these tales, as children would be.

His father had described how these legendary healers would arrange for the elders of the tribe to ambush the sufferer and then inflict some sort of extreme shock upon the poor, unsuspecting individual. The particular examples his father recited that were always firm favourites with Chakotay and his sister were: kidnapping the melancholy person in the middle of the night and dropping them into the river; running into their dwelling screaming with a flaming pot, just before dawn, and leaving it there on fire for them to deal with; and last but not least, Chakotay's particular favourite, completely filling their home with live animals while they were out.

It was impossible for Chakotay to miss the parallel here.

He was well aware most people in the twenty-fourth century would be more than a little sceptical about the effectiveness of these shock 'cures', and he himself had little time for people who pontificated that those with depression should just 'pull themselves together'. However, now that she'd had the shock treatment, Kathryn seemed to be doing just that. Then again, she was no ordinary woman.

* * *

After Chakotay and Kathryn had spent an hour or so in her quarters, discussing the things the Admiral had told her, Kathryn tossed her uniform jacket onto the sofa, grabbed his hand and pulled him across the room and into her bedroom. If she felt the need to seize the day after hearing about all that misery, he was more than happy to do some seizing with her.

What she initiated then, allowed him to feel once again the full force of the connection that for him was fundamental to their happiness together. It went some way to make up for their months of abstinence and he felt a damn sight better for it. He hoped she did too.

If she had left it up to him, he wouldn't have been able to conceive of a better way to spend the hours on the eve of the battle. Despite the obvious trepidation he felt about what they were about to attempt the next day, his soul sang to have her back again where she belonged. He couldn't get enough of her and couldn't seem to stop touching her - didn't have to. Because now it seemed his touch was welcomed once more; desired, needed, wanted, craved even as she lay there opened up for him again, offering everything he'd been missing so much for months. He wondered if she really had any idea quite how much he'd missed her. He was one satisfied warrior by the time they finally lay still together and slept.

* * *

xxx

* * *

As the Admiral's armour was deployed and they entered the nebula, Voyager buzzed with tense anticipation. Crunch time had most certainly come.

Their insanely ambitious plan worked and the Admiral sacrificed herself for the sake of a better future for her crew and for her family.

They blasted out of the Borg cube back into the Alpha Quadrant just as B'Elanna gave birth.

Kathryn answered Admiral Paris's welcoming hail and sent Tom down to sickbay to meet the newest member of the Paris family. Then she turned her solar smile on Chakotay, who basked in it for a long moment, before she directed it towards Harry.

"Put it on the view screen, Harry, and magnify."

Harry let go of Seven and moved back to work the controls at his station.

Chakotay was standing by Kathryn's side in the middle of the bridge, hands on his hips, head bowed. He took a breath and waited. Then he looked up to drink in the image.

The huge, blue and green sphere filled the screen.

There was a moment of total calm on the bridge as everyone just stared.

"Thank you, Admiral Janeway," Kathryn whispered, audible only to herself and Chakotay. Then she turned and looked slowly around the bridge, her eyes connecting with each member of the bridge crew in turn, before she finally spoke, her voice claiming with ease this space that had been hers for seven years.

"We did it! Thank you all, for taking the risk, for being prepared to sacrifice yourselves for something we all believed in. No Starfleet captain has ever asked more of their crew than has been asked of you, and no crew has ever given as much as you have. Thank you all."

There were murmurs of approval and then a round of spontaneous applause, and Harry whooped, "We made it! We actually made it!" and everyone laughed.

Chakotay's hand crept into hers and he waited until she looked his way. The applause died down, as everyone was drawn back to the compelling image on the screen. During this lull, he addressed her, his smile impossibly wide. "Permission to behave inappropriately on the bridge, Captain?"

Her expression rivalled his. "Granted, Commander."

He picked her up in one swift movement, so that her thighs came up either side of his hips, and he leant in and began to kiss her.

As her lips parted to invite him in, he shifted her weight without breaking contact and held her up with just one hand momentarily cupping her backside, as he groped behind him blindly with his other hand. When he found her chair, he eased them downwards until he was sitting, perched on the rounded end section of the seat with her straddling him. Then he shifted again to lift and turn her sideways so she was across his lap and he sat back in her chair and continued to kiss her comprehensively, with delicious disregard for everything around them. As she responded in kind and her fingers slid from his face to thread up into his hair, she settled into what was definitely the most un-captain-like posture she had ever adopted on the bridge of her ship.

Mike Ayala broke into a wide grin, and spoke, out loud_. _"Well that's something you don't see everyday!" and the bridge crew turned as one to look at him, astonished.

Harry nudged Seven and was just considering whether he dared follow the example set by his commanding officers, when his console beeped. Seven followed his gaze and they read the incoming message display.

"They're hailing again!" he hissed to her, as he looked helplessly towards the command team, who resembled more of a command unit at this point. "I'd better..."

Before he could finish his sentence, Seven pushed him out the way and several seconds elapsed, while she entered something into his console. He looked at her, alarmed.

"Seven! What did you do?!"

"I responded."

"_You_ can't respond! They want the Captain! What did you put?!"

"I simply informed them that the Captain is conferring with Commander Chakotay, on a matter of some urgency relating to his status on arrival, and I informed them that she will contact them when her conference is over."

Harry gaped at her in awe.

* * *

xxx

* * *

Chakotay sat in his chair on the bridge. Kathryn was in the ready room taking another communication from Admiral Paris.

Three days had passed since they had arrived back so dramatically in the Alpha Quadrant. Kathryn was herself again, there could be no doubt about that now. She had risen like a phoenix from the ashes of her other self, to face head-on the new challenge of preparing the crew and the ship for their arrival on Earth. Her mind seemed to be sharply focused already. In addition to the obvious uncertainties Chakotay was concerned about, she had anticipated all sorts of other issues they might need to address. She was ahead of him in her thinking. He'd resigned himself years ago to operating a few steps behind her in most things. In fact, he mused now that he'd be more than happy to spend the rest of his life slightly behind this particular woman.

He wondered how much Admiral Paris knew about what sort of reception would await them on Earth. He was increasingly anxious to find out, and shifted in his seat, eyeing the ready room door again.

"_Janeway to Chakotay_."

"Yes, Captain?"

"_Please report to the ready room, Commander_."

"On my way. Tuvok, you have the bridge."

Chakotay entered, and she came out immediately from behind her desk and motioned for him to join her in the raised seating area.

They climbed the steps and stood side by side, the Alpha Quadrant star scape going past behind them. He searched her face for clues as to the nature of her communication with Admiral Paris.

"Owen says we have a week before they start the debriefings and shred us all to pieces."

"And the Maquis?"

"He was cagey, but cagily optimistic I think." He took a deep breath and relished the release of some of the tension that came with it.

"That's good news."

She was glowing, beautiful. Good news agreed with her, she hadn't had nearly enough of it in the last seven years. She touched his hand, then took hers away immediately. "Come with me to Indiana, while we wait?"

"I'd love to, if you think it's wise."

"We'll plan our strategy and work out what's wise there together. In any case, you need to meet my mother. You may be a grown man, but you could still do with a bit of mothering, and I'm happy to share mine with you."

"Come here." He reached for her to pull her into an embrace. The euphoria of the last few days and the rediscovered delights of the last few nights meant that he was finding it far harder than usual to keep to their tried and tested rules of engagement whilst on duty. The fact that the finish line was in sight now didn't seem to help. At all.

"Stop it! Chakotay." She gave him a firm shove. "We're still on duty and you're still my first officer, for another few days at least." She took a fraction of a step back, to look him up and down appreciatively. "And a very fine one at that. No one else could've helped me lead this crew as well as you have."

"Why, thank you, Ma'am," he replied, with a mock bow.

"I'm serious. I probably don't tell you that often enough. I know you once said you thought any number of people could've been just as good a first officer, but I don't agree. No one could've done the job anywhere near as well as you have."

"I don't remember saying that!" He searched his memory, brow furrowing for a moment.

"No? Well, perhaps you didn't mean it? Perhaps it was one of your more underhand Maquis tactical moves?" She turned away from him and took a step towards the railing, one hand on her hip, the other gesticulating in the air, as she continued to describe his former, possibly false, modesty. "It was that first night you sweet-talked me into all this. I remember it well; you said that I needed more than just a first officer, because any number of people could fulfil that role. Tuvok could do that, you said, and some of the things you had in mind for us, well, you wouldn't want me to be doing them with Tuvok."

A wide grin spread across his face, as both dimples and the memory surfaced. "I don't think those were my exact words, Kathryn, but I have to admit you've captured the sentiment." He sidled up to her and his large hands cupped her buttocks. "Fancy doing a few more things now that you wouldn't do with Tuvok?"

"You're out of line, Commander! Unhand me!" She swatted him furiously. "We're still on duty! I mean it. We've done so well all these years, we can't blow it at the last minute! The other day was an exception, _obviously! _Exceptional circumstances...emotions running high and all that."

"You're right, Kathryn..._Captain_, I'm sorry." He quickly withdrew his hands, truly put in his place. He took a step back to put himself out of harm's way and clasped his hands tightly behind his back, looking down to study his boots.

"Unless of course our off-duty relationship was more formalised," she mused.

He looked up, head cocked to one side. _Surely she didn't mean...?_ "Formalised how exactly?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, Right. Yes. Of course, so..." he faltered. _She did?_

"Well? Will you?"

"Will I? ...Will I ...Yes! Of course!" He paused, still in shock, his eyes locking with hers.

She seemed completely composed, hands on her hips, chin in the air.

"That was it?!" he asked, still more than a little taken a-back.

"Yes. Why? That not good enough for you?" Her chin rose a little further.

"No, I mean, yes! Of course it's good enough, more than good enough, it's wonderful, I... it's just a bit... sudden."

"Sudden? It's been years, Chakotay!"

"I mean that I was going to... well... "

She stepped right up to him, toe-to-toe, and continued. "Good, anyway, so now that's settled, you can go ahead and manhandle your fiancé with impunity."

Immediately his hands recaptured that delicious backside, his mouth came slowly down to towards hers, and he murmured, "Who's she?"

* * *

Ten months later, two days before Vice-Admiral Janeway was due to start her maternity leave, Chakotay was obliged to leave his students mid-seminar when he received news that Kathryn's waters had just broken, rather spectacularly, whilst she was in the middle of some particularly delicate, diplomatic negotiations.

He supported her in every way he could as she prepared for this baby to leave her body for a second time; this time, in the way that nature had intended. Sixteen hours later, she gave birth, at Starfleet Medical, to a healthy baby boy with a sun-kissed complexion, chocolate eyes and a shock of thick, dark brown hair.

Chakotay leant in to kiss his wife, oblivious to the Doctor merrily snapping away beside them with his holo-imager.

As Chakotay held his son in his arms for the first time and looked down at the tiny face - the face that at one point he had refused to allow himself even to imagine - he felt indescribably grateful for their three lives.

Whatever the future held for them, they would meet it together. He thanked the spirits that he would be forever connected to this extraordinary woman.

* * *

The End.


End file.
